Dimensionality
by mangoaddict
Summary: M/L M/M. How many times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more times until he finally got it right?
1. Prologue: Dimensions

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: So, this story is sort-of part of a trilogy, with _Paradise_ and _On My Knees_. But it can definitely be read as a stand-alone as well. It refers in places to _On My Knees_, and to the three alternate endings to _Paradise_. But you don't have to have read (or remember) those stories to understand this.

Summary: M/L and M/M. Also will have some A/I and maybe K/T eventually. What if Max came back in time more than once? What if he kept trying to change the future, to save the world from Khivar, and yet only ever managed to make things worse?

How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more times until he got it right?

* * *

Prologue: Dimensions

_dimension: a level of existence or consciousness_

_We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations._

Life, Max knew, was like a circle. Others would argue that it was a line with fixed start and stop dates. It began at birth – or conception if you wanted to have the abortion debate – and ended with death - though once again, if religious beliefs were factored in, that endpoint could be questionable. But most would say that life only went in one direction, because, of course, time only moved forward. You couldn't go back, and you certainly could not end up where you started.

Except, Max knew, that you _could_.

Life was a circle. Maybe not in the literal sense of the word, but in the more figurative point of view. He knew this because he had experienced it. Because, try as he might, he always ended up back where he had started.

Back at the beginning.

* * *

The air was hot and humid, filled with moisture and dust and the smell of smoke. The horizon was aflame with colors, red and oranges and the occasional streak of yellow or white that flooded outwards across the blue sky. There were no clouds, nothing to ease the harshness of the sun, nothing to cast shade or shadows over the scorching desert floor.

The three figures made their way towards the distant rock formation, towards the cliffs that rose hazily into the sky. One limped, badly wounded, and another moved slowly as though exhausted. But the third, impatient and grim, strode forward with the kind of determination that could only come from years of fighting.

"Max… wait…"

The third figure, Max, turned and looked back at the other two, his expression a mixture of concern and fear. His hair clung to his face, sleek with sweat, and his clothing did little to hide the thinness of his frame. But his eyes, narrowed and fierce, held a strength in them that was not matched by his physical appearance.

He looked at the one who had spoken, the only woman in the group.

"We can't wait, Liz," he said, his voice rough as though it had been trapped in his throat for too long. "We haven't got the time."

The woman, Liz, frowned and glanced over at the other member of their group. "Michael can't run," she said tiredly. "We need to rest. We'll never make it if we keep…"

"No," Michael interjected, straightening even as he let out a sharp hiss of pain. The back of his shirt was covered in blood and he had several long, shallow gashes on his bare arms. "Max is right. We need… to keep going. If we… stay here…" he gasped and nearly doubled over, but just barely managed to remain upright, "they will find us."

Whoever "they" were, the mere mention of them was enough to cause Liz to glance around uneasily, almost as though expecting to be ambushed where they stood.

Max looked back at the cliffs. "This is our only chance," he said softly. "If we don't make it…" He trailed off and did not finish the sentence. He didn't need to finish it.

They all knew what would happen if they failed.

* * *

By the time they reached the cliffs, Michael had been forced to crawl the last several feet, unable to stand upright. Liz was leaning heavily against Max, who desperately wanted to carry both of them but knew he hardly had the strength for himself.

Still… despite the pain and the fear and the exhaustion, they _had_ reached the cliffs.

But they were not the only ones there.

The men emerged from the surrounding area, stepping out from behind stones and rocky outcroppings, appearing like shadows that crept over the land. There were at least fifteen of them, maybe more, Max wasn't really sure.

And, anyway, it was not the number of intruders that bothered them. Merely the identity of their leader.

"Well, well, well… what have we here?"

Max pushed himself forward, powers crackling along the length of his arm and converging into a sphere of energy at his fingertips. His lips twisted into a sneer, and hatred sparkled in his eyes, pure, unadulterated repugnance that masked the growing dread.

"Hello, Nicolas."

The man, or boy… or whatever he was… smiled at Max. A cruel smile that did not reach his eyes. "Hello, _your Majesty_," he drawled with sarcastic and mocking emphasis on Max's title, "I've been looking for you."

Michael jolted upright and came to stand beside Max, as though somehow convinced that his mere presence would be enough to halt the inevitable attack.

Nicolas laughed. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he smirked, gazing at Michael. "Do you really think you can stop me, Rath? You are barely alive… and I will take great pleasure in ensuring your slow and painful death."

Michael responded by throwing out both hands and sending a wave of energy towards his enemies. The effort involved in the attack sent him falling back to his knees, but he refused to give in to the darkness encroaching on his vision. Hanging on to consciousness with every fiber of his rapidly deteriorating being, he ordered tersely, "Max, go! Get to the Granolith. I will hold them off!"

Max hesitated, knowing that if he turned away now, it would be the last time he saw his friend. But even if he stayed and fought… they would all die anyway.

He could not defeat Nicolas.

Liz grabbed Max's arm and pulled him backwards. Max flung the sphere of energy directly at Nicolas, and the dangerous skin barely dodged in time. Michael repeated his attack, another wave of energy taking away his breath and momentarily sending his heart into a rushed panic. But the attack was enough to momentarily distract Nicolas, to force back the other skins…

"I love you," Max whispered, his eyes catching Michael's gaze for a split-second.

Then he turned and ran up the last incline of the desert floor, Liz at his heels, and Michael left behind.

Left behind to die.

Just like everyone else.

At the base of the cliffs, Max waved his hand over the smooth surface of the rock and an opening appeared, the silver handprint melting away to reveal the entrance to a cave. Then Max and Liz stepped inside and the entrance slid shut, effectively sealing off the rest of the world and plunging them into the dark.

* * *

The Granolith was a cone-shaped source of energy that vibrated and hummed like neon lights. Max stood before it, hesitating for one moment as he thought over everything that he was about to do, everything he would irrevocably change. Then he met Liz's gaze and felt his heart stiffen with determination.

And he plunged the crystal activator into the metal core, watching as a stream of blue erupted into the air above them, creating a vibrating inverted pyramid of iridescent light.

"Max…"

He turned back to Liz. He could see the tears pooling in her dark brown eyes, and knew that this was goodbye. Tentatively, he reached out towards her, linking his fingers through hers as their hands touched. There was so much he wanted to say, but his voice was stuck in his throat, his emotions preventing him from uttering any sound at all.

Finally, he managed a hoarse, "I love you."

She smiled back. "I don't regret a single moment of this," she answered.

For a moment, his resolve faltered. How could he do this? How could he take all their fates into his hands, how could he play with their lives as though their own decisions, free will itself, meant nothing to him? By going to the past, he would erase this future. For good or ill, he would change the world.

How could he know it was for good?

Except that all the others were dead, and whatever future he created, it had to be better than this.

He reached up and placed his hand against the cool swirl of energy. It absorbed him, pulling him apart, scattering his essence into a million particles, then reassembling him within the energy. He did not feel pain, although he knew the process must have hurt him somehow. But nothing seemed to matter much anymore, and through the vibrating iridescent energy, he could see Liz looking up at him.

"I love you," he whispered, his words caught in the hum of the Granolith.

He reached out his hand towards her, and she lifted her own towards him. But the world began to fade around him, and Liz stumbled and fell to the ground. The last image he saw was the pod chamber crumbling around her still body and then…

Nothing.

* * *

In space, all things fall apart. There is nothing, no matter, no time, no light. Nothing but an eternal darkness, a silence beyond everything.

In space, the lingering memories of other things come together, creating a vague and cloudy tapestry of the past, of multiple pasts, of times and places that once were and yet somehow also never existed.

In space, there are questions without answers and answers without questions. In space, ideas merge with each other, and crumble into dust, leaving nothing but trails of reverberation behind, resonance of half-forgotten dreams.

In space, there is nothing and everything.

And that was how Max knew he had done this before.

_Isabel, smiling at him, laughing…_

…_tears spilling down her face as she relayed yet another dream, yet another invasion by Khivar…_

…_eyes wide in horror as she died._

The thoughts that bombarded his mind made little sense, and though he tried to grasp at them, they slid easily through his fingers. Like sand, falling away, disappearing before his very eyes. They left impressions, feelings, understandings of things he could not possibly understand.

They blurred in his mind, leaving him feeling giddy and bewildered and torn. They were not his memories, and yet somehow… somehow they were. Somehow, he knew all this, had witnessed it, had experienced it. Words, emotions, sensations. They wove in and out of each other, like meshwork, like ribbons of color creating a blanket of…

Of what? What was he remembering?

_Michael, grumbling under his breath…_

…_another argument with Maria, another abstract apology, another smile as things seemed to fall into place once more…_

…_falling to his knees beside the pod chamber, determined to protect Max for as long as possible, even unto his own death._

They were gone, so quickly, just as quickly as they had come, and in the emptiness that filled him, he felt the surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

He had done this before. Travelled back in time, tried to save his friends, his family. His world. And yet it seemed as though it had never worked, as though somehow every attempt had lead to failure, had made it worse, and sent them all spiraling into the darkness.

Too fast, too hard. Unstoppable.

Always, it seemed, Khivar would win.

_Maria, lips quirked into a sarcastic smirk…_

…_eyes glazed over in death as she sacrificed everything to save her best friend…_

…_hugging Michael and telling him she loved him._

He did not exist, not really. The Granolith had taken him, torn him apart, thrown him into space. He was nothing, just molecules, particles of matter suspended in energy, flying through time, crashing into each other in the dark.

He did not breath. His lungs did not expand and contract, his chest did not rise and fall with every awkward inhalation and exhalation of oxygen. There was no oxygen here, nothing at all, nothing to keep him together.

His heart did not beat. No steady rhythm marking time against his ribcage, no rush of blood through his arteries and veins. No organ set to keep the body alive, no circulation through his limbs.

His nerves did not fire impulses, electrical stimulation passing through, carrying feelings and orders from one part of the body to the next. No hot, no cold, no pain. No comfort, no soft touches, no gentle caresses of the energy that surrounded him, protected him. Nothing.

_Alex, crying out in horror even as Isabel took her last breath…_

…_asking Isabel to marry him with a nervous smile and a hopeful gaze…_

…_sprawled lifeless in the wreckage of the car accident._

But…

But his mind _did_ exist. Caught, trapped, going nowhere, filled with confusion…

Memories and images, colors and shapes, thin lines between each passing moment. No external senses, no smell, no taste, no touch, no sight, no hearing… but the lingering effects, the memories of those senses, the knowledge that it was all still there, trapped within his mind.

Different timelines, merging as he was carried out of time, as his mind was forced backwards, back into the past…

A past he didn't remember, or maybe one he simply wanted to forget.

_Tess, holding their son in her arms, smiling at him while he thought of Liz…_

…_blue eyes cold and hard and filled with bitter treachery as she backed away from him in the pod chamber…_

…_gazing adoringly at some other man, someone who was not him, and he felt relief._

There was no consistency, no sense of time as a chronological movement. The images came and went, playing across his mind in a pattern all their own, one that left him even more confused with every passing second. But as each second passed by, there was still no sense of time, of anything at all, and he was suspended in eternity, not understanding the lifetimes that unraveled before him.

The images were contradictory, pushed around in all sorts of ways, flung across the expanse, filling his mind with conflicting emotions, senses he could not comprehend, and maybe never would…

_Kyle, walking away after graduation and refusing to look back…_

…_hugging Tess fiercely as the two stood side-by-side, facing the skins…_

…_introducing his wife and daughter to the others, his face wearing a smile that did not reach his eyes._

And then, suddenly…

Nothing.

For one moment, a split-second forever frozen, everything was still. The memories gone, his mind blank, nothing at all but the great expanse of emptiness.

And then time appeared again, rushing through him, and his mind was thrown backwards, forwards, all around… A grinding of gears, a crashing of energy, a sudden explosion of light that burst through the space all around him.

And as he crashed back into Earth, back in time, he knew one thing for certain…

_Liz, brown eyes filled with tears…_

…_turning away from him as she faced yet another enemy…_

…_whispering into the quiet stillness that she would always love him._

…life was a circle. And his would always begin and end in the same exact way.

With Liz.


	2. The First Dimension: Length

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: I'm not really sure about how frequently my updates are going to be on this one. I'd like to say every couple of weeks, and I think I will be sticking to that, especially as some of my other stories begin to wrap up and I have more time to focus on this one. But I make no promises.

Also, this story is going to be written entirely from the point of view of Future Max. I know I've never really done that before (only showed one characters thoughts throughout the entire story) but I am going to do it for this one. And, because Future Max can't interact with Present Max, we won't ever see Present Max. We will hear a lot about him, and his actions, but we won't see him. Anyway, the point of this is to explain that, unless specifically stated otherwise, _Max_ always refers to _Future Max, _and not_ Present Max_.

Summary: How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more times until he got it right?

* * *

The First Dimension: Length

_Day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, and night doth nightly make my grief's length seem stronger._

_- William Shakespeare_

The first sensation was that of dampness, as though his clothes had been exposed to some kind of mist. He blinked wearily and tried to open his eyes, but the darkness pressed down around him on all sides, trapping him. He groaned, and with an effort managed to sit up, using his hands to feel his way through the gloom.

After a moment, he blinked again, and this time his eyes opened, slowly adjusting to the dim light.

He wasn't entirely sure where he was or how he had reached this place. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, filled with confusion, and could offer very little help.

He swallowed uneasily, feeling as though something thick had coated his throat, making it hard to breathe. What had happened?

_The skins… the pod chamber… Michael left behind… the Granolith… Liz…_

Had he succeeded? He rose unsteadily to his feet, drawing a slow breath and blinking, yet again, to focus his vision on the place around him. He pushed at his hair, the strands, damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead.

He was standing in the pod chamber.

A pod chamber that had not been destroyed. He could hear the hum of the Granolith behind him, feel the pulsating energy that rushed in waves from the alien artifact. There was only one explanation, only one way that any of this made sense…

He had come to the past.

He stood outside the familiar window, watching as a figure moved around behind the curtains, casting a long shadow against the neatly trimmed of lawn. He crept closer, his breath catching in his throat. She was just on the other side of the window, separated from him by nothing more than a sheet of glass.

"Isabel," he whispered.

She had been one of the first to die. Khivar had lured her away from the others, tormenting her with dreams, mocking her every time she tried so desperately to fight him. Eventually, it had broken her, and she'd become nothing more than an empty shell clinging at a life that had already slipped past her and faded into nothing.

There were other bits and pieces of memories and thoughts that plagued him, flashing before his eyes as he gazed at the silhouette of his sister. He could see her, leaning back in the seat beside him as he drove a van through the desert, smiling and shaking her head at one of his rather pathetic jokes. In that memory, she looked so alive, so vibrant. But there was also a sadness there, something in her eyes that spoke of things she had lost, people that had been snatched from her despite her best effort to hold onto her perfect life.

He wondered vaguely what she had been like in that time. What had happened in her life, what events had shaped her, had created the woman she would become?

A gust of wind blew by him, rattling the nearby tree branches and shaking the glass in the windowpane. In the room, Isabel turned towards the outside, crossing the room quickly. Her hands lowered to the lock on the window, as though she was checking to make sure it was securely fastened. But as she bent to test the latch, her eyes lifted enough to look through the sheer drapes, and she saw him.

She froze, mouth opening slightly, fear moving momentarily through her eyes. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder, as though to determine that she was alone in the room. He watched as she stepped backwards, away from the window, her movements frantic.

He knew, then, that he had to act. Had to stop her from calling out to the younger version of himself for help, had to convince her that he was not the enemy, not a skin or a shape-shifter.

He hurried quickly to the window, pulling it open. The latch gave easily under his hands, and he scrambled to push himself through the narrow confines of the open window and into the room.

Isabel had one hand out in front of her, and though the fear was still evident on her face, it was mixed with something else, a determination and fire that he had not seen in a very long time. Khivar had drained that from her as well, taking away all that had made her Isabel. He had never hated Khivar as much as he did in that moment, as he stared at his sister and remembered what she had been like… before…

"Isabel, wait," he said, his voice rough, cracking as he forced the words out.

"Get away from me," she spat, her words low, quiet so that her parents would not hear, but still laced with venom. "I don't know who you are, but if you think pretending to be my brother will convince me that…"

He cut her off before she could continue with her rant. "I _am_ Max. Just not from this time."

She paused, speechless at his confession, her mouth falling open. He could see the struggle in her face, could watch as she forced herself to regain her composure and school her expression back into one of anger, of distrust. She continued to back away from until she was nearly pushed up against the opposite wall, and he made no move to follow her, not wanting to appear threatening at all.

In the tense silence, all that was left was the fluttering of the wind through the open window and the vague white-noise of their parents moving around in the rest of the house.

"_What_?" Isabel whispered finally, that single word encompassing all the conflicted bewilderment in her eyes. "How is that… I don't… that's not… possible…"

Her stammered statement, soft and confused, combined with the trepidation in her eyes, reminded him so much of how she had been in the future. For a moment, everything twisted on its side and he was staring at a vision, a memory of his past, of her pale skin covered with bruises and the blood that spilled out on the white tile floor, lifeless eyes that stared unseeingly at the ceiling, reflecting the pale light of the moon through the window.

He closed his eyes, fighting back the memory, forcing it away.

It would change. He would change it, change everything.

"Time travel," he said finally, turning away from her, from his past. "The Granolith. It can be used as a time travel device. Something about physics and the space-time continuum. It's complicated. The science of it was never really my strongpoint."

She said nothing, letting the silence fall over them once more, settling like a heavy cloak on their shoulders. He could feel the weight of his words, of her disbelief, resting on his chest. He looked at her again, and it was hard, hard to face her when he had already watched her die.

"Liz understood it better. And Serena. She's a friend, from the future. She had this idea… because the world… it had all fallen apart…" He said the words, more to fill the awkward space than anything else. They tumbled from his lips, soft and pained, pointless to Isabel who could clearly not understand.

"You're from the future?" Isabel demanded, tone disbelieving. It was as though she had found herself stuck on that detail, unable to hear anything else he had said.

He nodded mutely, watching her. Before his eyes, she changed again, and this time he saw a fresh smile and a bright grin, expressions that did not hold the same constant worry that had graced her features in his time. She was laughing at something, or someone, her eyes filled with light, a gentle teasing to her gaze.

He blinked, and the vision faded.

"In my future," he said finally, slowly, "everything is… gone. Khivar has taken over the planet…" _killed you. Destroyed us. Destroyed me_. He didn't say the words, _couldn't_ say them. She didn't understand, would never really be able to understand, what her death had done to him.

He tried to be a good king, tried to be a good friend. He tried to care about everyone equally, but… but he didn't. Michael had been like a brother to him, and Maria like a sister in the end. But Isabel… she was… well, she was _Isabel_. And there were no words that could describe what that meant, no way to make others comprehend to the true strength of the bond that had existed between them. But nobody, _nobody_, hurt Isabel and did not end up having to answer to him.

He look a few shuffling steps away from her and sank into the chair by her desk, hunched over, staring moodily at the ground, at the wall, at the ceiling. Anywhere but Isabel.

"Why should I believe you?" Isabel asked, her voice thick with suspicion and anxiety, and he snapped his gaze up to her face. She hadn't called out yet, hadn't tried to run away from him. Her eyes kept darting to the door, and he knew if she left, he'd make no move to stop her. But if she left… he wouldn't be here when she got back. He couldn't be, couldn't take the risk of meeting his other self…

"You have to," he answered, not liking the desperation in his tone, the pleading that wouldn't quite go away. "You have to…" _because I don't know if I can handle this if you don't_.

She bit her bottom lip, and Max started in surprise.

In the future, she was perpetually chewing on her lip. Sometimes, when they were hiding, recovering from a battle, when the silence was never broken and all they had were their own mess of memories to keep them company, she'd bite her lip so hard it would split in places, and she'd barely even notice. It was her nervous habit, what she did when she was worried or afraid. Michael used to tease her about it, and she'd respond with a roll of her eyes and some barbed comment about his own coping mechanisms… but it never changed. She never changed, not enough to lose that habit.

Max wondered how he could have forgotten that. He remembered every other detail of her life – and death – and yet somehow, that had slipped him by.

"So you're Max. From the future. And you used the Granolith to come back in time." The way she said it, the doubt laced through her words, caused Max to run a hand through his hair and give a weary sigh.

"Yes," he said simply, because what else could he say? It was the truth, and there was little else he could add, and nothing really that would explain why he was here. He, himself, was not sure exactly how he planned to accomplish his task.

"You still haven't given me proof that you are not a shape-shifter," Isabel argued, though her voice shook with her crumbling determination.

He had to smile at that. They had been talking now for a few minutes, and it was only at this point that she started demanding proof. That was what made Isabel so different from the others. Liz, always the scientist, would demand proof, and refuse to listen to anything else until her request was answered. Michael, forever the impulsive soldier, was far more likely to attack first and ask questions later. But Isabel acted far more emotionally than Liz did, and yet without Michael's rash behavior. Isabel would trust her instincts… up to a point.

Then she wanted proof.

"Ask me anything," he offered. "Ask me something only your brother could possibly know."

She nodded, considering. After a moment, she asked quietly, her face flushed slightly with embarrassment, "First guy I kissed?"

A ghost of a smile passed over Max's face at the question. "Jason Thomas. You were twelve, he was thirteen. You kissed him and told him you liked him, and he told you that you were crazy. Michael gave him a black eye. You swore off guys for all eternity. Not that that particular promise lasted all that long…" It was odd, the way the last comment came out, the quip slipping from between his teeth before he could really think through it. It was lighthearted, easy banter, and it reminded him of a time when they had been able to set aside their worries, even for a few moments.

Isabel was gaping, her mouth open, her eyes wide, her skin pale.

"How… how…?"

"You're my sister," he pressed, his tone now becoming pained. "I remember this. I remember you." He could not quite fight back the urge to wrap his arms around her, to hug her so tightly, to somehow convince himself that she was here, and she would not fade away before his very eyes. He rose to his feet, took a step forward, and then stopped and she continued to move away from him.

There was no fear in her eyes, not anymore. But no acceptance, either.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, as though those words could somehow put her at ease. But there was no softening of her gaze, no nod of reception at his words. "Please… Izzy… I need your help."

"How? How can I help? I don't even understand what you want. Why are you here?"

At least she believed him. His insides unclenched just a little bit at that, and he let out a breath he did not realize he had bee holding. But he did not move towards her because he could tell by her skittish expression that she was still not ready to entirely let go of her apprehension, and he did not think he could take rejection from her.

She'd asked a question, and he wasn't sure how to answer it.

He was here to save the future. But the how…? He thought he knew. He had known, when he'd first made the plan with Liz, when he had left Michael alone with Nicolas, when he had whispered goodbye to Liz in the Granolith chamber. But then he had been in space, then he had felt all the worlds crashing into him, colliding with each other, adding memories of times and places and emotions to his already overly-exhausted mind… And at this point he wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

"I don't know," he admitted finally, watching the slight frown appear in between her eyebrows. "I really don't know."

For a moment, she let that answer hang in the air, let the silence between them speak volumes about her own skepticism and his own desperation. Then she asked in a timid voice, "What happens to me? In the future?" When he did not reply to her question right away, she pressed softly, "The way you're looking at me… like you haven't seen me in years."

He should have known better than to think he could lie to Isabel about anything as important as her death. Part of him wished he could only give her a vague outline, a few lines about how Khivar had destroyed the world, and she would not want more. But he knew better, knew _her_ better. She could read his expression, could see the haunted emotion in his eyes. He couldn't lie to her, not now. Maybe he never could, maybe she had always seen through his false words.

"You _died_," he answered, his words choked. "Khivar…" He stopped, shook his head. How could he explain? How could she ever comprehend the torment of those dreams that Khivar had inflicted on her? She was too young, to idealistic. Time had not sucked the happiness from her, had not yet drained her of all hope. The war had not come to her, not as brutally as it would in a few years time.

In this time, he knew it was only shortly after her battle with Whitaker, after the skin had revealed the truth about Vilandra. And after Isabel had been forced to kill their enemy to save Tess. She had the weight of those revelations hanging over her, had the horror of her past to deal with, to accept. But it would get so much worse, and she did not realize that. Could not realize that.

"He killed me?" Isabel questioned.

He nodded. "Yes," he breathed, a one-word answer. She sank onto the bed, her lips curving downwards into a grimace. "He taunted you… entering your dreams…" He swallowed uneasily as he tried to continue, gazing cautiously at her eyes, at the myriad of emotions that flickered through their depths. "Reminding you of Vilandra… of your past."

She gave him a sharp look. "You know about that?"

He answered with a dark chuckle. "Yes." He remembered the argument they had had at the time, how he had slammed down the phone on her in frustration. Remembered Lonnie's tricks and depictions, and how betrayed he had felt when he learned that Isabel did not tell him the truth.

It all seemed so irrelevant now.

"They were nightmares… you couldn't sleep, you were never rested when you awoke… those dreams, they…" _broke you. Destroyed you. Tore you apart from the inside out._ "Khivar found us. Found you, and…"

She was looking at him, but he wasn't seeing her. He was seeing the death that hovered in the air, the shock and horror of stumbling over her body too late to save her. He saw them frequently, phantoms of the past, of those he'd lost. They stared at him, their dead eyes boring deep into his soul, as though demanding answers, needing him to explain why he had let them die. They'd all died in the end – every single one – but it was Isabel who he saw the most.

He'd learned to take a shaky breath and close his eyes, willing away the images.

_Red blood, crimson liquid spreading out across the smooth tiles, matted in her hair and drying along the folds and creases of her clothing. The air of the room was cold, and the partially open window let in a cool night breeze. Cobwebs gathered in the corners, and moonlight reflected off a grimy windowpane, illuminating dust motes suspended in midair._

When he opened his eyes again, Isabel was staring at him in concern, but the visions of her death were gone.

She did not press for more details.

* * *

"Why did you come to me?"

They were sitting on a bench at the park, the faint light of the moon casting shadows along the grass. Isabel had her arms wrapped around herself, the thin material of her sweater keeping out the cool night air. They had talked quietly of the future on their walk over here from her house, and he had avoided the questions as much as possible, giving vague answers and half-hearted explanations.

But now it was clear her mind had turned to more concerning questions.

He inhaled, picking his words carefully, speaking slowly. "The Granolith… I think it has some sort of memory. The energy… it records what has happened before, remembers everything… even if it happened in different times. Serena…"

"A friend in the future?" Isabel cut in, interrupting his explanation as she tried to sort the pieces of the puzzle in her mind.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "She explained it to me… explained that the Granolith has the ability to alter the flow of time. That's how we're able to use it as means for time travel. But in altering time… I think is somehow merged with other timelines…"

"Other timelines?" Isabel pressed, confusion and doubt lacing her words. "What do you mean?"

"When I was… in it… in the Granolith, I mean… it was as though I was seeing other times… other memories… memories of mine, but from futures that didn't exist anymore…" He trailed off with a frustrated sigh, wishing he could ask Serena about this. But they weren't friends yet, and wouldn't be for several years, and none of the people he did know in this time, not even Liz, would be able to understand the physics of the space-time continuum.

"I don't understand," Isabel said matter-of-factly, and he bit back his smile at her words, at the accuracy of his annoyance.

"I don't either," he said grimly. "Not really. But I think… I've tried to fix this before. I think I might have come back in time and… Oh, I don't know. I can't really explain…"

"It didn't work," Isabel said thoughtfully, giving him a long look. "Your other trips through time."

"No," he muttered darkly, moodily. He tilted his head up, staring at the stars. Somewhere up there was Antar, the planet that he was supposed to call home. It was in ruins, he knew that much. The war had destroyed it – _Khivar_ had destroyed it – and he doubted it could ever really be fixed.

Stars… they'd once been nothing more than brightly burning lights in the sky, white dots against an inky background. Then, when he fully realized the importance of his powers, of everything that made him different from humans, he'd regarded the stars with a sense of awe and longing, viewing them as keys to rooms that held all the answers for all the questions he had not even yet begun to ask.

Now he looked at them, and they were nothing more and nothing less than reminders that he had failed, that he had not been able to protect those he loved, those who counted on him for their safety.

"But why did you come to me?" Isabel asked again. "Why not Michael? Or Liz? Or… Tess, even? Why me?"

"Because…" _it was too hard to think of Liz, to see her right now. Because I couldn't handle Michael's inevitable suspicion._ "You're my sister."

"And what happens now? What are we supposed to do?"

He shook his head, unsure how to answer. "I… I don't know. I just… I must have all of these memories for a reason. Every time I failed… it must have been a mistake I made. If I could only sort through it… maybe the answer would be obvious."

"What are they like? The memories, I mean."

He blinked, and her smile seemed to melt into a grimace, a shadow of something passing through her eyes. Her hair was shorter, brown, the darker color highlighting the stark contrast with her pale skin. He felt the tug of something at his chest, fear and another unidentifiable emotion that crept under his skin.

He blinked again, and the image was gone. Isabel was still waiting for his answer.

"Flashes," he whispered. "Emotions, images… disconnected… sometimes words… just… flashes."

"Can you sort through the memories? Determine which flash belongs with which timeline?" Isabel questioned curiously, reaching out with one hand towards him. She stopped, though, her hand hovering midair in the space between them, and then she lowered it and dropped her gaze.

She hadn't touched him yet.

He felt a pang of sorrow at that thought, at the realization that despite her trust in him, she couldn't bring herself to let down her guard enough for any kind of physical contact. A hug, a teasing slap against the chest, a hand resting gently on his shoulder… It was as though she was afraid that any sign of affection might suddenly lead to him disappearing, dissolving before her eyes.

But if _she_ was the one who had died, shouldn't _he_ be the one afraid that she would fade away?

"I don't know. I can try," he answered at last. "I don't think it will be easy, but I can still try. I just have to separate them from _my_ timeline first."

A pause, then the tentative question, "What happened?"

He sighed and lowered his gaze. How could he explain? She wanted answers, they'd all want answers. Hadn't he known that, hadn't he known all along that he couldn't just waltz in here and expect them to accept what he said without question? And yet… how could he ever make them comprehend it all?

"After graduation, everything seemed… picture perfect," he murmured. "Well, not absolutely perfect. There were some problems… a couple times the skins found us… but we always fought back, always stayed one step ahead of them… Liz and I got married. So did Kyle and Tess. Michael and Maria were dating, and you and Alex… everyone was _happy_."

"And then?" Isabel prompted.

"And then…" a choked laugh escaped his lips. "It started when Liz met Serena on a plane on the way back from Boston. Liz had gotten it into her mind that she should be friends with Serena, and… We thought everything was perfect, and then… the FBI… they came after us… Serena was there when it happened, and we couldn't lie to her… we had to tell her the truth. She freaked, but… she accepted it eventually."

"That's good, right?" Isabel asked tentatively. "She didn't turn on you…"

He drew a shaky breath, nodded. "It was good… for a while. She and Liz were really close friends. And then there was another attack. The FBI… Serena got caught in the crossfire, Liz ran back to save her…" He closed his eyes, trying to block out the images. "And the FBI they… they almost had her… and then, somehow… Maria… she got in the way, saved Liz from them, but…" He trailed off, unable to continue and heard the sharp intake of breath from Isabel as she realized what he was saying.

He gazed up at the stars again, his mind going back to darker times, darker memories. In the days that had followed that first, horrible death, they had not spoken about it. Not spoken about how their lives were crumbling, not spoken about the hollowness left inside, not spoken about the broken ties, the absence of the bonds that had once held them so tightly together.

They had spoken only of strategies and survival, of making it from one moment to the next. Nothing else mattered, not Liz's feelings of guilt for what had happened, not Serena's fears that she had gotten a friend killed, not _anything_… And the haunted look in Michael's eyes… they had not spoken of _that_, either.

"From there… it was like dominos. One thing after another. Everything just… The skins found us… Khivar found _you_… then Kyle, Tess, Alex… Serena eventually… even all out parents… Khivar left no one untouched by the war, left no one alive to bear witness to what he had done…"

They hadn't talked about the future, either. Hadn't talked about it with any sense of hope. At first, he had clung to his childish belief that they could defeat their enemies… until he could not longer avoid the truth. Then all they focused on was the present, was each and every moment that they had to somehow stay alive.

"There were times," he said softly, slowly, "when I thought I was going insane. In the future… It would have been so easy to give up. So incredibly easy… And then this plan… and I thought if I could fix this… fix everything…"

The problem was that he had evidently tried this before, and it had gotten him nowhere. He'd only made matters worse, it seemed. He'd come to Isabel now in the hopes that a different beginning might lead to a different end. But would it? He really wasn't sure, not now, not anymore. Not with the realization that every attempt he made to save the future seemed only to bring them that much closer to the inevitable end.

"We need to tell the others. Michael, Tess…"

He noted that Isabel did not mention Liz, and silently thanked her for it. Being here, talking to Isabel… that was hard enough. How would he handle seeing Liz as well? How could he possibly deal with being in her presence when only moments ago, he had left her alone in a crumbling cave?

He doubted seeing Michael would be easy, either. After all, he'd left Michael behind, left him to an inevitable death at the hands of the skins. But, though he knew it would be difficult, he doubted it would be as hard as seeing Liz.

Nothing could possibly be that hard.

"Max?"

"Not yet," he said a little hurriedly. "Not quite yet. I need to…" _get ready. Be prepared. I don't think I can do this – face them – quiet yet._

She looked at him, then looked sharply away. "You've changed," she said, and he nodded, unable to refute the truth of her words. She continued, pressing forward, "The future… it's made you this person I don't even recognize anymore."

He inhaled sharply, perhaps a little too sharply. He wanted to say something, but couldn't think of the right words. How could he explain what it had been like? How could he make her understand? In the future, there was nothing but war. People died, and suffered, and lives were ruined, and the only thing that mattered was staying alive, staying afloat. In the future, there was no honor or decency, no easily identified morals. There was nothing _good_ or _right_ about how they lived, how they fought, how they _survived_.

In the future, there was nothing at all but survival. By any means, no matter how cruel or distasteful.

"Sometimes," he admitted reluctantly, "I don't even recognize myself."

* * *

Later that night, after they'd returned home and Isabel had gone to sleep, he restlessly paced back and forth across the grassy side-yard. Isabel had offered for him to stay in her room for the night, but he had countered that with the point that it would be too easy for him to be seen by his past self or his parents. It was a risk he could not take, and it was warm enough out that he did not feel too chilled by the night air.

The side-yard was cut off from the front and the back by a net of interlacing tree branches. It offered privacy, as the safety of knowing that only Isabel's window faced the yard, only she would be able to see him.

There, in the silence, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He knew he would not sleep that night, _could_ not sleep. Not with so many turbulent thoughts running through his mind.

The plan had been to go back to Liz, not Isabel. To talk to Liz, to get her help, not Isabel's. Why had he deviated from the plan?

He had not even attempted to explain it to Isabel. When his sister had asked why he had come to her, he'd given her half-truths, knowing she would not understand if he tried to tell her more.

He didn't really understand it himself.

"Why didn't you tell me, Liz?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper in the wind. "What were you afraid would happen?"

He did not want to dwell on the questions, but there was no escaping it. He had come back in time before, gone to Liz, and with her help changed the timeline. He had come back in time before… and Liz had never mentioned it. Not when it had first happened, not later when she had elected to be friends with Serena, not even in the harrowing days before he came back in time as they plotted every last detail of the plan and questioned, over and over, what would happen if something went wrong.

Why had she not said anything?

He opened his eyes and watched the shadows of the trees moving back and forth across the neatly-trimmed lawn. He could see her staring at him, a young and vibrant Liz near tears as he told her that she needed to make him fall out of love with her. He could see her and Kyle talking quietly as she tried to convince the football jock of her plan, could hear the sound of footsteps on the balcony outside the window as his past self caught sight of the two lying in bed together… And he could feel Liz's arms wrapping around him as they danced a final dance before the timeline was irrevocably altered, and he faded away.

It was vague, fuzzy images and phrases that were never quite completed punctuated by the occasion burst of emotion, but still… he _remembered_ this.

So why hadn't Liz told him? Didn't she think it was relevant? Didn't it matter in the greater scheme of things? Why had she decided to keep it a secret?

Would he ever know the answer to that?

Did it really matter what the answer was?

He trusted Liz, trusted her with his life, his soul, his love. He trusted that she had made this decision for a reason, and that her thinking had been logical, rational, based in the fervent desire to save the future from Khivar… but he still would have liked to know what her reason was.

The moon rose higher in the night sky, the stars shone brighter against the inky black. It was peaceful and calm… but he knew just how quickly things could change. All it took was one wrong step, one faulty decision… and the world could come crumbling down.

* * *

Author's note: A couple of points to clarify – as should be evident from this chapter, this Future Max did not come from the same timeline as the Future Max who came on the show. The show's Future Max has already come and changed the timeline… so this is a different future.

Also, I know it is a bit confusing at the moment with all the different timelines, and I am being vague about how they interconnect. That should become clear as the chapters progress, and will be completely explained in one of the later chapters (maybe chapter five or six).


	3. The Second Dimension: Width

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more times until he got it right?

* * *

The Second Dimension: Width

_I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well._

_-Diane Ackerman_

Of all the people he wanted to see the next morning, Alex Whitman did not even figure onto the list. It wasn't that he didn't like Alex, because he did. He liked him, and respected his intelligence, his loyalty, and above all else, how happy he made Isabel. But he had never really connected with the quiet computer geek. Over the years, he had somehow looked past Maria's abrasive manner, Tess' calculating actions, and Kyle's aloofness, to find good friends, good family, hidden in the depths. But Alex… the connection just wasn't there.

So when he froze, his eyes widening at the sight of Alex standing before him, he wasn't even that worried. The fear of being found out flared for a moment underneath the surface of his emotionless expression. But it was gone almost as soon as it had come, and all that was left was the silent irony that came to mind, the faint amusement that he was facing someone he could not decipher.

"Alex. It isn't what you think…" he started, then stopped because he had no idea exactly what Alex was thinking and no real plan for how he would explain his presence standing here, underneath the early morning light, half-hidden by shadows.

Alex backed away slowly, a look of fear in his eyes. His gaze darted quickly, frantically, towards the house. Max had not even heard him approach, and he wondered vaguely at that. In the future, his future, he was so aware of his surroundings that it was nearly impossible for even a breeze to rustle the blades of grass on the ground without him knowing.

In the future, _not_ being aware was what got people killed.

"Isabel is inside," Max said after a moment. "She can explain."

The sun had only just risen, a faint glow in the sky that lingered at the distant horizon. But Isabel, he knew, was awake. He had heard movement inside her room, saw her silhouette against the fluttering curtain. It was early for her to be awake, but he doubted that she had slept much.

He certainly hadn't.

"Inside," Alex repeated softly. "Right."

It was obvious that he did not know exactly who or what Max was. It was just as equally obvious that he had no desire to stay and find out, that his self-preservation tendencies were screaming at him to get away. But he did not turn his back on Max. Instead, he continued to gaze at the hybrid King, never tearing his eyes from the other's face, until his feet lead him to the porch and out of Max's line of vision.

Alex was smart, smart enough to worry about his own safety first. Unlike Michael, who would have attacked first and asked questions later. Max supposed he should be thankful for that, for the small favors that had kept him from being forced to fight one of his friends.

His brother.

He walked further back into the side-yard. The window to Isabel's room was closed, and he could hear nothing from within. He strained his hearing as much as possible, holding his breath and waiting for the creaking of the door opening, the soft tread of footsteps on the ground.

He did not have long to wait. He could hear the indistinct murmur of voices through the thin glass of the windowpane, and then the curtain was pulled aside and Isabel stood in front of him.

She looked exhausted.

Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face, loose strands slipping from the messy ponytail and framing the side of her face. Her eyes were shadowed by dark circles that stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin. She looked at him, her expression unreadable, and then pulled open the window.

At the same time, Max distinctly heard Alex's voice asking quietly, "Are you sure he isn't a… a shape-shifter? Or maybe this is some kind of… what is that thing Tess does? Mind-warp?"

"I'm sure," Isabel answered, her words low and muttered.

Max climbed in through the window and glanced quickly between Isabel and Alex, feeling the tension in the air. He paused for a moment, wondering if this was around the time that she had told him that she just wasn't ready for a relationship yet. Had she already broken his heart by going out with Grant Sorenson? Did she know yet that that particular relationship was doomed, that Grant himself would soon be living on borrowed time?

Did she know yet that she was in love with Alex?

He knew his sister, and knew that there was nothing anyone could say or do that would ever convince her of something she was not willing to believe. Alex was the perfect match for her, in so many ways. But she would need to discover that truth on her own, and in her own time.

And Alex would also need to learn how to stand up for himself, how to not let her string him alone and then dispose of him when she got bored.

He rubbed his eyes with one hand, trying to remember. He was fairly certain that everything didn't become right for them until much later in the year. It had been a long time since he had been in high school, and the memories of their relationships often blurred around the edges, running into each other, even as memories of battles and grief and pain stood out in brilliant detail in his mind.

Obviously, though, Alex was still pining after Isabel, and Isabel hadn't figured out what she wanted yet. That much was obvious from the way Alex's gaze always came back to the statuesque hybrid, and from the way she barely gave him a second glance.

"You're from the future."

It was not a question, but Max answered it anyway. "Yes." He studied Alex, watching as the teenage human settled himself on the edge of the bed and contemplated the situation with a thoughtful expression.

"And you're here… to save it. The future, I mean."

"Yes," Max said again.

Alex slanted a look at Isabel.

She shrugged, her attention on Max. "I didn't tell him anything else. I didn't really know what to tell him. Max… we _need_ to talk to Michael."

Max hesitated, torn, and Alex said, "I agree. This is way out of my league."

Max bit back the urge to snort, to tell Alex that of course he was out of his league. They were all out of their league, but the last thing Max wanted was a reminder of that.

Not with the wait of the entire world resting on his shoulders.

"_How can you do this? How can you just stand there and not… not fight? Isn't it worth it? Isn't _she_ worth it?"_

He heard the words echoing in the silence of his brain, registered the surge of frustration and anger that they conjured, and answered without thinking.

"I am doing the best that I can!"

The words burst from his lips and he froze, eyes widening in surprise. Alex and Isabel exchanged an uneasy glance, Isabel's expression becoming a little bewildered by his outburst.

"No one is arguing that," she said softly, tentatively. "I just… you did come here for help, right?"

He blinked, nodded.

_The air in the room was stifling, the heat oppressive in its intensity. There was nothing to break the tension anymore, not with the others gone. Not now that it was just the two of them, just bitter words and loss, just accusations that floated unsaid in the space between them. Just the overpowering silence, broken only by the faint rattling of the windowpane against the wall and the distant sound of rain._

Max blinked again and rubbed his eyes, willing away the memories he could not control. The anger was still there, hot and jarring, spreading behind his eyes as he gazed at Alex.

"Max?" Isabel whispered, and there was real fear in her tone.

That fear was what jolted Max back into reality. He never wanted Isabel to be afraid of him, and he did not like the way she was staring at him now, the flash of distrust that momentarily passed through her otherwise steady gaze. He tore his thoughts away from Alex and focused on Isabel.

"Sorry," he murmured apologetically. "I didn't mean…" He trailed off and did not finish the sentence, at a loss for words. He turned away from her, away from Alex, and stared at the still-open window. "You're right, we do need to tell Michael. Soon."

He heard Isabel moving and tensed, forcing himself not to whip around and face her. In the future, people did not approach him from behind. In the future, those who came from behind wanted one thing and one thing only, and Max's instinctive response was so engrained in him that he would attack them before he had fully registered their presence, before they had the chance to attack him.

It was different here, in this time, and Isabel didn't know any better as she let her hand rested gently on his elbow. Didn't know that a gesture like that was enough to start a battle, that wars had been fought because of an opening such as that.

How could she know? She'd never experienced that future.

And he fervently prayed that she never would.

"_You're an idiot. God, Alex, what were you thinking? Don't you know anything? Can't you tell how much this is destroying him?"_

He heard the words as Isabel's hand grazed his arm and he slowly inhaled and exhaled, wishing he could explain it. Wishing he could understand it.

"Max? You're seeing something, aren't you? Another future?"

He nodded mutely, then said in a hoarse voice, "It's… confusing. Complicated."

"Another future?" Alex asked curiously. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

Max turned to Isabel and said, "It is nothing."

"It isn't nothing," she countered, her expression thoughtful. "Max, you failed to save the future so many times, it seems," and she smiled apologetically, almost embarrassed at her choice of words as he flinched from the accusation she did not mean to imply, "but maybe the answer is in all those failed attempts. Can't you tell us anything?"

He shook his head, mouth suddenly dry. Last night, the flashes of memories had been just remnants, things that passed through his mind so quickly he might have been imagining them. But this morning, they hit him with such a strong force, and left behind a heavy indentation on his mind, something that would not fade.

And yet, despite the strength of these impressions, he was still left with only fragments, disconnected pieces of the puzzle. He could not form an entire picture of the future, could not even really separate out one set of memories from another.

He wished he could explain all this to Isabel, wished he could have her understand. But the words would not arrange themselves properly and he knew anything he said would only sound like babbling.

"Does everyone else know you're here? I mean, besides Michael. Have you seen the others? Liz?" Alex's question was laced with an emotion that Max thought might have been annoyance. Annoyance at what he perceived was being the last to find out about something – again.

"No," Max said simply. "Not yet." He glanced over at Alex, watched the surprise flicker across his face.

"I still don't understand… how are you even here?"

"The Granolith."

"The what?"

"It's… a really long story," Max said wearily, not wanting to go into the details of it again.

Alex accepted this in silence, then asked, "And Liz doesn't know you're here?"

"_Liz doesn't even know he's here, Maria."_

"_I know, and that's the problem! Why are we lying to her? She's our best friend, she deserves…"_

"_She deserves what? To see him with Tess? To see his son… _Tess'_ son?"_

The words were harsh, like a slap in his face. He reeled back from them, from the undeniable truth that layered across them. He could see the image, faint and blurred, of a child with his hair and his tan skin, with his smile, his face shape, his laugh… and Tess' eyes.

His head was pounding. Isabel was staring at him in concern, and Alex was waiting patently for an answer that no one really seemed willing to give.

"Max?" Isabel pressed, and there was real fear in her voice.

"Shouldn't we get Max?" Alex asked. "I mean… not you. The other Max. The Max from… from now. From the present." He made a move towards the door, as though intent on leaving, but both Max and Isabel spun to face him with identical looks of horror on their faces.

"No!" Max hissed, forgetting for a moment that his anger at Alex was entirely derived from another timeline, a timeline he knew nothing about, could only vaguely remember. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"Uh… no?" Now Alex just looked harried and bewildered. Blue eyes moved towards Isabel, and for a moment, Max wondered if Alex expected her to intervene on his behalf. But she was silent, barely looking at Alex, and the tension in the room rose.

"Izzy," Max said, "can you go tell Mom and Dad that you and Alex are going out for breakfast? I'll meet you at the corner of the block." He stepped back towards the window, wondering at his own strength, his own ability to stand firm despite the hammering of his heart and the knowledge that soon, very soon, he would have to face Michael.

Isabel nodded and left the room, Alex trailing wordlessly behind her.

Alone, Max took a moment to wrap his head around what he had just witnessed. It seemed as though he and Alex did not get along all that well in this timeline, whichever one it was. Isabel was a point of contention between them, and maybe Liz as well. Something had torn them apart, torn apart the group, and Max and Alex had ended up on opposite sides.

And Max had a child. A son. With _Tess_.

* * *

By the time Isabel and Alex joined him on the corner of the street, Isabel was fuming. She shook her head with frustration as she walked up to him, her eyes narrowed and fierce.

"Mom was so thrilled that I was going out with a nice, sweet boy my own age," Isabel snapped, rolling her eyes. "She actually said that. In front of Alex."

"Well, I am nice. And sweet. And your age," Alex said lightly, trying his best to disarm Isabel's anger by his own gentle teasing.

She glanced at him, a frown on her face. "Not helping," she muttered.

Max watched the exchange with interest, then said, "What's his name? That archeologist. Grant Something? Well, he is too old for you. It isn't going to work out, anyway. Trust me."

Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw Alex brighten significantly at that comment, but Isabel glowered at Max and answered, "How do you know? Maybe it will work out perfectly. Maybe this will be one of the things we change in the new future."

Alex's expression was carefully blank, but Max saw the telltale glimmer of hurt in his eyes. He almost wished he could tell Alex to start standing up for himself now, wished he could promise that the two would end up together in the future. But he couldn't promise that, because at this point he just didn't know.

And Alex would never have a real chance of being with Isabel until he learned not to let her walk all over him.

"Come on," Max said. It was early enough in the morning that he doubted he would be seen by anyone he wanted to avoid, but he saw no reason to take that risk. It would be too difficult to explain, especially if he accidently stumbled across one of his parents' friends or his friends' parents. People who knew him, and would know that there was something off about the way he looked at the moment.

What he did not expect to happen was to turn the corner and find himself face-to-face with Tess.

"_Life matters Tess. Mine, yours, Alex's…"_

"_What matters is getting home. But you could never see that, could you? I could have shown you, but that stupid bitch…"_

"_Don't you dare call her that!"_

The words slammed into him with such an intensity that he reeled backwards, surprised. For a moment, the entire world faded away, and he was staring at Tess, surrounded by the darkness of the a cave and the whirling sound of energy, of the Granolith as it spiraled in the air before them.

He blinked and the image faded, but he was left breathless and horrified.

He gaped at Tess, just stared at her with open eyes and the sudden painful clenching in his chest, the feeling of betrayal and hatred and fury that flooded his veins and made his vision simmer red with fire.

"Max?"

Her voice was shaky, surprised, and she backed away from him, from the darkness in his eyes. He knew she was afraid, saw the terror that momentarily fluttered in her gaze before her emotionless shutters dropped down over her eyes.

Before, when Isabel had looked at him with fear, he had instantly forced aside his own anger and focused on calming himself, on reassuring her. He had felt distaste at himself, at the fact that he had lashed out in such a way, had done something to make her think she should be frightened of him.

Now, when Tess looked at him with panic in her sapphire eyes, all he felt was vindictive pleasure.

"Max? Max, what is wrong with you?"

That was Isabel, and she moved in front of him, standing between him and Tess. "Max? Look at me. _Max_!"

He looked at her.

"What is wrong with you?" Tess demanded from behind Isabel. She was staring at him with a calculating gaze, and then her attention shifted abruptly to Isabel and she said heatedly, "There is _no way_ that he is Max. Just look at him."

"He is. It's just… he's from the future. It's complicated."

Max narrowed his tawny eyes as Isabel answered Tess. "Don't tell her anything," he said sharply, his words a hiss. "She can't be trusted."

"What? Of course I can be trusted!" Tess protested.

"No you can't. _Traitor_."

"What do you mean?" Alex questioned, taking a step away from Tess and giving the petite hybrid a worried look. Tess had flushed a dark crimson color, outraged at his accusation, and she cast Alex a disgusted look, as though she could not quite believe that he would take the word of someone else over her own claims of innocence.

Isabel folded her arms over her chest and argued softly, "Max. You never mentioned that she was the enemy. In your future… I thought she was on your side. Our side."

Max blinked, those words bringing him crashing back into the reality of the situation.

She was right. Whatever future he was remembering now, it was not the future he had come from. And that future, the one that he had lived through, was entirely different. Tess had been on their side, had been loyal and true, a good friend, a trustworthy confidant. She had not betrayed them, had not sided with Khivar.

He rubbed the back of his head absently and murmured, "I'm sorry. I didn't meant… I…"

"What is going on?" Tess demanded. "Who _are_ you?"

"He's Max. From the future. And I really don't know anything else because no one will tell me anything," Alex quipped, his tone only half-joking.

"What are you doing here?" Isabel asked suddenly, turning towards Tess.

"I… oh… well, I thought I'd just…" Her cheeks were now tinged a light pink, and she groped for words before lapsing into silence with a would-be nonchalant shrug.

Max inwardly rolled his eyes. It was obvious to him, although judging by Isabel and Alex's blank stares not evident to either of them, that Tess had been walking through the neighborhood hoping to _conveniently_ run into him. It would be a while before her interest turned from him towards Kyle, but he fervently hoped that it would happen sooner in this timeline. It would save both of them a lot of trouble… and Liz a lot of pain.

Of course, for reasons he could not even begin to comprehend, he had apparently slept with her in another future. He wondered why, what could have possibly driven him away from Liz? It seemed inconceivable that he would ever even look at someone else, not with Liz still there.

_Tangled limbs, a fleeting look at Liz's face, guilty expression, and Kyle's head rising from the pillow…_

Max inhaled sharply and thought he might be sick.

Isabel and Tess were talking, but he was only vaguely aware of what was being said. He could hear the sharp note in Tess' voice, the disbelief, the suspicion. Isabel's words were calmer, measured, but still firm. Unyielding. Snippets of their conversation penetrated the thick fog around his mind…

"From the future? How is that even possible…?"

"…different timelines… I don't really understand it… not sure he really understands either…"

"Positive that… not a shape-shifter? A skin?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

All he could think about was that image, Liz's expression and Kyle… the bed, covers tangled and tossed around…

"We really need to get to Michael's place." This time it was Alex who spoke, and when Max looked at him, he saw concern and worry reflected in the human teenager's gaze. "Before we accidently run into anyone else." He looked over at Tess, his expression still a little suspicious, but to his credit, he said in a serious tone, "At least we can trust Tess with this secret. The next person we run into… we might not be as lucky."

Tess chewed her bottom lip, but nodded. She was still obviously smarting from Max's previous accusation, from the words that had been thrown at her. But she swallowed back whatever she wanted to say, and folded her arms over her chest with a resigned sigh.

"Are we calling anyone else to meet us there?" Alex questioned.

Max quickly shook his head. "Not yet. Not right now. I need…" He stopped, met Isabel's eyes. "Let's start just by talking to Michael. After that, we can call the others. Liz, Maria, Kyle… Jim, also. But for right now… just Michael."

There was a moment of quiet, then Isabel asked tentatively, "What you remembered just then… was it… I mean… your memories of Tess… are they from the same timeline as the memories you had earlier… the ones of Alex, and the ones before that of me?"

Max considered this with a puzzled frown, then answered, "I'm not sure, but… but I don't think so." He ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed his bleary eyes. "I think… I think they were all different."

"We need to figure this all out," Alex said rather pointlessly, echoing what Max already knew.

_Yes_, Max thought to himself, _we do. Preferably before the memories drive me insane._


	4. The Third Dimension: Depth

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Okay, I know all the chapters so far have not really had a whole lot of action in them. This one doesn't either. But, starting after this, there will be action and problems and answers and all that sort of thing…

Summary: How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more until he finally got it right?

* * *

The Third Dimension: Depth

_Ever it has been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation._

_-Kahlil Gibron_

"I don't know _who the hell_ you are or how you managed to trick Isabel into _believing_ you…"

"Michael, _stop_ _it_! Just listen to us…"

"He's a shape-shifter. Or a skin. _Get out of the way, Izzy_!"

Part of Max figured that he should have known this would happen. He had half-hoped that Michael would not be quite so reckless, would at least listen to his explanation before making snap judgments and acting on them. But he should have known better, because even in the future, even after the war had made Michael more cautious, the hybrid General was still not known for his patience.

Which was why Max now found himself standing in the living room of Michael's apartment, with Michael – arm outstretched and face etched with signs of distrust and determination – ready to attack him. Tess and Alex stood behind Max, looking both a little stunned by this turn of events, but Isabel had moved herself immediately in between the two feuding aliens. She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Michael.

"Do you really think I'm stupid enough to bring an enemy alien here?" she asked sharply, her tone filled with disbelief. "Do you actually think I wouldn't have verified his identity first?"

That caused Michael to hesitate, but he did not lower his arm. "He can't be Max," he said finally, his words hard and cold. "It isn't possible. _Look_ at him."

"He's from the future," Alex offered, speaking up for the first time since they had entered the apartment.

Michael's gaze moved past Max and settled on Alex for a moment. Then he scoffed and said, "That's the best cover-story he could come up with? And you all actually _believed_ it? "

"It's not a cover-story, it's the truth," Isabel insisted.

"I really am from the future," Max added, a little ironically.

"I didn't ask you," Michael snapped, glaring at the hybrid King.

Max ran a hand through his hair and stifled the urge to groan. "What do I have to do to convince you?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. He knew Michael, knew him well enough to read the expression on his face, to interpret the dark look in his eyes. Michael was not being rational at the moment, and it was unlikely Max could change that.

Sure enough, Michael retorted, "You can't. You can't convince me because you are obviously lying."

"Oh, for God's sake, Michael," Tess suddenly interjected, rolling her blue eyes and striding forward, annoyance evident in her stance. "Stop being such a stubborn idiot and at least hear him out."

A faint smile tugged at Max's lips as he heard Tess' words. Although she had certainly mellowed over time, her sharp tongue never completely disappeared. She and Maria were quite similar in that regard. And in the future – his future, the one he had come from – that sharpness, and the frequent idea that Michael was a stubborn idiot, was something that had brought the two would-be enemies together.

Michael turned his furious expression towards Tess and opened his mouth to say something, but Isabel cut in quickly, her words calm and measured, but underlined with steel.

"Michael. Just… trust me. You still remember how to do that, right?"

Michael seemed to waver, then he slowly lowered his hand and nodded, his expression still skeptical, his gaze still laced with suspicion. Then, as if for good measure, he added bitterly, "Don't make any sudden moves."

Max nearly laughed. Michael had never been able to give in graciously, a trait that he sometimes found exasperating, sometimes found amusing. Things had changed, people had changed, but that aspect of Michael remained constant throughout the war.

"_Michael! Michael, come on. We need to get out of here…" The panic in Isabel's voice was obvious, but so was the grief, the horror._

_Michael did not hear. He stood, blinking unseeingly, nothing else registering but the blood spilling out at his feet, and Maria's eyes, which would never open again._

Max snapped his attention back to the people in the room, and knew by the look in Isabel's eyes that she had quickly learned to recognize his unfocused stare as a sign that his mind was elsewhere, in a different memory, maybe even a different time.

Max glanced down at his hands. That memory had been more vivid than many of the others, and for a moment, he even wondered if it might have left traces of blood on his hand, a reminder that he had failed to heal his friend. He wondered if Michael had blamed him for that, for not saving Maria, for not being able to prevent yet another unnecessary death.

"Yo, Maxwell. You in there?"

Michael's voice, sharp and filled with sarcasm, brought his attention back to the situation. He walked slowly over to the sofa and sat down, feeling drained of energy.

His mind went back to the Michael from his timeline, the one who he had left outside the pod chamber, the one he had left to die at the hands of the skins. He licked his dry lips, unable to bear that thought, to face the reality that he was the only one left. Michael dead because of the skins, and Liz probably killed when the pod chamber crashed around her…

Liz.

He swallowed and looked quickly towards Isabel.

She was staring at him, her eyes narrowed.

"_I can feel him. All the time. Even when I'm not sleeping. Max, I can't get him out of my head! It's like…" her voice wavered, "he wants me. And I can't stop it, can't stop him."_

"Max?" Isabel asked softly.

"What is going on? Is he brain-dead?" Michael cut in, his question harsh, rough around the edges. He walked to the other side of the room so that he was now standing directly in front of Max, and leaned against the wall. His arms folded over his chest, his gaze fixed firmly, resolutely, on Max, waiting for an explanation.

"He's seeing the future," Tess supplied, her tone just a little bit sarcastic.

Michael raised an eyebrow.

Max twisted to look at Tess who had come to stand behind him. He could see the remnants of anger in her eyes, and he supposed he could not blame her for it. He had, after all, accused her of being a traitor, accused her of a crime that she had not yet committed – and might never commit. But those memories were strong, so strong. And he could not even begin to describe to her what it had felt like when that wall of hatred and betrayal slammed into him, when the mere sight of her made him sick with guilt and rage.

It was Isabel who explained, as best she could, in a tone that indicated no one was allowed to disagree with her. "Max thinks he has come back in time more than once. It's created different timelines, different futures. Something about this last trip triggered all his memories of those futures… so he's been having flashes of the other timelines."

There was a pause, then Michael said, "That's insane. Why do you keep believing this junk that the shape-shifter comes up with?"

"He's not a shape-shifter," Isabel answered sharply. "Will you stop with that already?"

Michael glared at her, but instead of responding to her retort, he glanced over at Tess and asked, "And what's your problem with him?"

Max inwardly groaned. Michael was hardly the most perceptive person he had ever met, a trait which would get him in trouble with Maria quite frequently in the future. So it both annoyed and impressed the hybrid King that his friend had somehow managed to pick up on Tess' dislike.

But, to Max's surprise, Tess didn't answer the question. Instead, she said coolly, "Whatever my problems are, they aren't based on any thoughts that he is a shape-shifter."

"Fine," Michael hissed, clearly outnumbered by the others in the room. "Then let's suppose I believe you. What's your story? What are you doing here?"

Max ran a hand through his hair in an absent-minded gesture. He inhaled slowly, carefully, then let the breath out in a rush of air. Somehow, he doubted that saying he was here to save the world would be enough. Michael wanted specifics, and Max wasn't sure that was something he could give. He'd already gone through it once for Isabel, and the idea of recounting each and every painful moment…

It seemed like far too much.

"Well?" Michael prompted, waiting impatiently.

Max lifted tawny eyes and said, "The skins have won. Our enemies… they've taken over the world, destroyed everything. I want to stop that, to keep it al from… from being ruined." As an afterthought, he added in a low whisper, "Although I don't know how."

"What do you mean that they've won? Won how?" Michael questioned.

It was a simple enough question, but it made Max flinch. Did Michael actually want him to recount, moment by moment, blow by blow, how the skins had destroyed them? Did he think that would _help_?

In a tone as hard as granite and cold as ice, Max answered, "Everyone is dead. Maria, Isabel, Kyle, Tess, Alex. People you don't know yet. Serena. Kal. And our parents, other students in Roswell, random people all over the country that probably didn't even know we existed."

At the mention of Maria, Michael had jerked his gaze away, some dark emotion passing momentarily through his eyes. Max saw it, but said nothing, letting it come and go. He knew that feeling of hatred, of fury. He'd felt it strongly when Isabel was slowly suffering, torn apart by Khivar's dreams, and felt it even more when she finally came undone completely, and died before them.

He looked at Isabel for a moment, and was not surprised to see the sheen of tears in her eyes.

She looked away.

Alex, who had remained silent until this point, spoke up now, "So what are we going to do about it? How do we stop this from happening? How do we keep everyone safe?"

The room tilted sideways, and everything fell away until Max was staring at emptiness, at something cold and dark and lonely. Alex's words seemed to reverberate through the room, and before his eyes, Max could see a scene unfold, an echo of some other time.

"_You just left, Maxwell," Michael snarled at the alien king. _

"_I left a note," Max replied carelessly. The fight had drained from him, and now he appeared weak and tired, exhausted by the past, and by the bleak future._

"_Do you have any idea how worried we were?" came Liz's soft voice, laced with tears. "How could you do this?"_

_But Max's reply was a frosty glare, harsh words, and not a hint of remorse. "How could you wait so long to tell me what you knew about Kyle?" he demanded._

"_Because I was trying to keep you from doing something stupid!" Liz shot back, flushed._

"_Nice job," Michael cut in sarcastically._

"_Guys, arguing isn't going to help us," Alex spoke up softly, glancing back and forth between the two aliens and Liz. "What matters now is that everyone is safe."_

Then Max was back in the room, back among the people from the past, and the vision was gone, leaving behind only a sense of unease and a throbbing headache. He rubbed his temples slowly, willing away the pain, but that motion did little to alleviate the gnawing worry that twisted in his stomach.

"Max?" Again, Isabel's worried voice.

"We were arguing. I'd done something… hadn't told anyone where I was going. And…" a quick, slanted look at Michael, "nobody was happy that I had just disappeared." He rose to his feet and began to pace, his motions slow, deliberate. It was as though he could feel the edges of the memory spreading out in his mind, opening to reveal some other truth. But he couldn't quite grasp it, and it left behind an imprint, the remnants of emotions and fragments of thoughts.

Michael clicked his tongue impatiently and muttered, "Figures he'd come back as a basket case."

"Michael!" Isabel snapped, rounding on him with blazing eyes.

But Max felt himself relax slightly at Michael's words. The comment was so stereotypical of Michael that it almost made Max laugh. The hybrid General might be wary of him, might not fully trust him, but it still made him feel more at ease to see that, no matter what, Michael was still Michael.

The headache continued.

Max blinked a few times, looking at the others in the room. He felt as though his grip on reality was slowly disappearing, and it left him with the strangest sensation of grasping at air, of trying desperately to hold on to something insubstantial, something that was practically melting away before his very eyes.

He looked again at Tess, and did not feel the same anger and fury that had hit him before. Now there was just a lingering guilt, the idea that maybe he could have fixed this, should have fixed this. Maybe, if only he had tried a little harder, he could have somehow made it all work out.

The problem was, though he was left with the idea that something needed to be fixed, he had no idea what that something was. What had he done that was so bad? Why did he feel guilt?

Tess met his gaze with her own questioning look. He couldn't read her expression beyond that vague confusion, and it frustrated him. He didn't know her that well in this time, not like he knew Michael and Isabel, and that lack of understanding left him a little uneasy. She'd become an open book later, but right now she was too much of an enigma.

"So… did anyone tell the other Max? The current one?" Michael asked finally, breaking the silence.

"We can't," Isabel replied quickly, automatically. "They can't be in the same room. There is this whole thing about space and time and… I don't really understand it, but… well, Max said they can't be in the same room." She finished the explanation with a half-hearted shrug and a quick look at Max.

Michael scoffed, but did not push the subject.

And then the door was flung open and Maria walked into the room.

All eyes turned towards the pixie blonde. Alex jumped, and a guilty expression passed momentarily through his eyes. Isabel looked at Max, her gaze thoughtful and calculating. Michael and Tess both remained impassive, although there was a fleeting look of surprise about Tess.

Max felt his breath catch in his throat.

Maria had frozen only a few steps into the room, her gaze fixed solely on Max. The door swung shut behind her, closing with a loud slam. Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw Alex jump once again, startled by the loud noise of the door, but otherwise the room was quiet.

"What the…? What is this? Who is he?" Maria demanded sharply, apparently finding her voice again. She extended her arm, an accusatory finger pointing towards Max.

"It's Max," Isabel said softly.

Maria swung to face the statuesque hybrid, rolling her pretty eyes. "What, did he suddenly age? Is this some crazy alien thing? Are you all going to get old?"

Max's eyes flashed as he answered, "I'm in my mid-twenties, Maria. That's _not_ old." Then he began to realize the complete and utter pointlessness of that statement, and a dull flush suffused his face. He heard Isabel stifle a snicker, and even Michael looked amused by the comment.

Maria folded her arms over her chest as she gazed at him, and the stance was so similar to the one Michael had adopted during his questioning that Max did a double-take. It was eerie, how similar they were. Eerie and just a little bit frightening.

"Who are you?" Maria asked again.

"I'm Max," Max answered. "From the future."

Maria's mouth opened and closed as she gaped like a fish out of water. "How?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion and an edge of dislike.

"The Granolith," Max replied, and Maria stared at him blankly. "Alien energy. It's… complicated. I used it to travel back in time." He looked over at Michael, and saw the taciturn hybrid was nodding slowly, as though he perhaps understood and believed what Max was saying.

Max let out a breath of relief. It wasn't much, but at the moment, it was something he would gladly accept.

And then, quite suddenly, he was no longer in the room. He was somewhere else entirely, a hotel hallway, perhaps, sitting on the worn carpet with his knees pulled to his chest and a mass of indecipherable emotions rushing through his already confused mind.

"_Max." It was Maria's voice, and he lifted his gaze to see her, shaking with righteous indignation, as she stood above him._

"_Maria." He rose to his feet._

"_Liz is worried about you," she said, and her voice rose higher and higher with every word she said, as though she was preparing for a rant._

"_She's here," Max murmured, cutting into her anger with his own quiet whisper._

_Maria stuttered to a stop, and then raised an eyebrow, "Who?"_

_In answer, Max slammed his open palm into the wall, suddenly filled with fury and pain and anger and grief and a million other flickering feelings. "How do I tell Liz? I have to, but I don't want to worry her. But I need to pursue this, I need to!"_

"_Uh… Max, you're starting to scare me," Maria said, tilting her head to the side as though she was afraid Max might completely lose it. "What are you talking about?"_

"_Tess."_

It was a different timeline, he thought to himself as the memory faded. A different place, a world where something entirely different had happened, and he couldn't even begin to put the pieces together. They stuck out, all wrong angles and odd shapes, jarring and troubling. There were no answers there, just more questions he didn't think he could face.

Isabel reached up and brushed her hand against Max's arm, as though trying to physically pull him back into reality. He started and turned towards her, noticing that she was biting her lip, that she was afraid.

For him? Of him? He wasn't sure, and he didn't really want to know.

Isabel might have picked up on his momentary lapse into a different memory, but Maria did not. She looked around the room and asked, "Is Liz here?"

Max dropped his eyes quickly, looking away from everyone else. His heart pounded frantically in his chest, matching rhythm and time with the throbbing of his headache. He didn't want to think of Liz, to face that problem quite yet.

"She's not," Isabel replied finally, when it became clear to the others that Max was not going to speak. "We haven't told her."

"Why not?" Maria snapped, her tone sharp, defensive. "Is this an alien only thing? Are us mere humans suddenly not good enough to be included in your club?" If she noted that her words were ill-founded, given Alex's presence, she showed no signs of it. Instead, Max frowned as he saw the way her eyes darted towards Tess with silent accusation.

"He just showed up here a few minutes ago," Michael interrupted, giving his sort-of girlfriend an annoyed look. "We only just started discussing this. We haven't had time to figure out anything."

"Yeah? Well don't you think Liz and I should be here for the discussion?"

Max closed his eyes, almost wishing he could tune out Maria's words. But the abrasive blonde was too loud and too determined to be ignored, and he knew that well enough to know that there was no point in even trying.

"We were getting there," Michael hissed his reply.

"Yeah. Right." Maria rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Mikey G."

That name sounded so familiar to Max, and yet he couldn't place it. As far as he knew, Maria only called Michael one of three things – Michael, Guerin, or Space Boy. But Mikey G was ringing faint bells, and he searched through every corner of his brain, trying to come up with the answer.

Then he remembered.

Courtney.

Mikey G was what she had called Michael, and Maria had used it as a reminder of that, as an accusation against her boyfriend and the blonde skin.

And that thought made Max tense slightly, and he wondered if they knew the truth about Courtney yet. Had Michael discovered that she was a skin, had they learned about the rebels who wanted Rath in charge? Obviously Courtney wasn't yet dead, or Maria would have been more sensitive about the issue. In the end, Michael and Courtney had been friends, and Michael had been hurt by her death. And Maria, for all her anger, still loved Michael far too much to deliberately hurt him with something like that.

No, Courtney must be alive.

Michael was glaring at Maria, but he hadn't taken the bait. She was smiling in reply, an icy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

How long were they going to keep arguing, Max wondered, and how long until they realized just how perfect they were for each other?

_The strange alien with the inhuman green eyes shrieked with words of twisted rage, "You won't win! Fool, do you really think we will let your humans live?"_

_They were in a hospital room, a place of sterile white and hushed voices and the constant drone of machinery working in the background, keeping people alive. Max was slumped over at Liz's side, and the brunette's eyes were slowly blinking open, her uncomprehending gaze moving around the others._

_The alien pointed his hand at Liz, his eyes blazing._

_There was a flash, a burst of energy, too quick for Max to raise his shield, too quick to stop the inevitable. Max opened his mouth to scream, but the words never made it out from between his lips, and everything seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time…_

…_as Maria threw herself forward, body sprawling in front of Liz, the energy slamming into her chest and filling her with an eerie glow…_

…_and Michael screamed out a guttural cry of horror as Maria's eyes glazed over and closed._

Some things don't change, he realized. The consistencies were there, threads that linked each timeline to the others, ties that bound them all together. How many times had Maria sacrificed herself to save Liz? How many of her futures had ended with a similar brutal death, a desperate attempt to save Liz, a haunted cry from Michael? He had watched Maria die more than once in the past twelve hours… how many more times would he see it?

"I need some water," he muttered, and was not surprised to find his voice was dry and scratchy.

"You know where it is," Michael replied, and Max could sense the challenge underneath. It was Michael's way of saying that if he really was who he said he was, he should know his way around Michael's apartment. He nodded slowly, seeing no reason in arguing that point, and turned away from the others.

He half-expected Isabel to follow him in concern, or perhaps Maria to continue to demand explanations, but to his relief, they left him alone. He stood alone in the kitchen, running his hand over the smooth tile counter, glancing out towards the window. A few wisps of clouds drifted lazily across the bright blue sky, and the sun shone with its usual desert intensity.

In only a few years, the sun would be shining down on blood-soaked sand. In only a few years…

He sighed.

Walking quickly to the cupboard, he pulled out a glass and filled it with cold water from the faucet. He drank it in one gulp, a few drops escaping the edge of the glass and spilling down the front of his shirt. He brushed them aside easily. For a moment, he considered refilling the glass, but instead he left it by the sink and walked back towards the living room.

He paused just out of sight, listening to the soft rise and fall of voices.

"…worried about him. Those memories… changed so much… in just the past twelve hours… Looks like… hurts him…"

"…don't understand… memories?"

"…different timelines…"

He couldn't hear everything they were saying, couldn't hear it clearly enough. But it didn't matter, he could still easily understand exactly what they were talking about. It was clear that Isabel had picked up on his rapidly fraying grasp of reality, and it was worrying her. They were arguing about him, about the best way to proceed, and some part of him wanted to stay there until they had come up with a plan so that he wouldn't be forced to do any thinking. Let them figure it out.

But he couldn't. He was the only one with the knowledge of the future – all the futures – and they needed him. They needed him to figure out how to save the world.

He walked back into the room.

The others looked at him as he entered, and he could see the telltale signs of awkward anxiety in their expressions as they wondered how much of their conversation he had heard. He wished he could smile reassuringly and tell them everything would be alright… but would it?

He sat down on the sofa.

"I still don't understand why Liz isn't here," Maria said bluntly. "She belongs."

"No one is arguing that she doesn't," Isabel said wearily, slanting a look at Max. He stiffened ever so slightly under her gaze, but otherwise said nothing. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully, then added, "Now is a good time to call her, Max."

Wanting to delay the inevitable, Max said, "I'd like to get a handle on the time, first. Just to pinpoint exactly where I am. You've already dealt with Whitaker, right?"

Isabel swallowed and looked away. "Yes," she answered in a low tone, clearly not liking the memory of that. Max looked at Tess, and was not surprised to see that she had averted her gaze, apparently finding the floor fascinating. What Whitaker had done was a painful memory for her as well.

"Have the Dupes shown up?"

"Who?" Maria questioned, bewildered.

"Hm… I'll take that as a no. What about the Harvest? Have we been to Copper Summit yet? Have you met Nicolas?"

Michael shook his head, looking both confused and interested by Max's questions. "What's the Harvest? What's at Copper Summit?"

"More aliens. Evil ones," Max answered. "And trust me, you don't want to mess with Nicolas. Not unless you absolutely have to." He hesitated, almost not wanting to ask the next question. Bringing up any mention of Courtney was dangerous, and the last thing he wanted was to create more problems between Michael and Maria, problems that might interfere with their ability to focus on the task at hand.

But… he had to ask. He had to know what they did and didn't know. He had to be careful, had to gather all the knowledge he possible could. Or else…

Or else he might not succeed.

"Have you found out that Courtney is a skin yet?"

Maria gaped at him. "She's what?" Then, with a triumphant smirk, she turned to Michael and said, "Guess your new _friend_ wasn't quite what you thought, huh?"

Michael glared heatedly at her as he answered, "I told you the whole reason that I was spending time with Courtney was to figure out what exactly was going on. _I'm_ the one who told _you_ that there was something not right about her."

"Yeah, right. And you had to make-out with her to figure that out?"

"Hey," Tess cut in sharply, "why don't you two settle the personal stuff some other time. You know, when the fate of the entire world isn't hanging in the balance."

Michael and Maria both turned angry stares to the fourth hybrid, but Tess just gazed coolly at them, refusing to back down. She wasn't easily intimidated, a trait that had served her well during the war. Max smiled slightly, appreciatively, as he watched the silent show-down. None of his friends, his _family_, were easily intimidated, not anymore. They'd all been strong fighters and good people.

Of course, that hadn't been enough to save them.

He turned his attention back to Michael and Maria and said, "She's not the enemy, though. And don't worry, Maria, her interest in Michael is purely political."

"Huh?"

"She's part of a faction of rebel skins that believed if Michael… he went by the name of Rath in our past lives… had been on the thrown, he could have prevented civil war. She's here looking for you because she thinks you can save everything." Max frowned at Michael and added, "She thinks you're the messiah."

"Great," Maria muttered. "Just what we need. Michael with an even bigger God-complex."

"The God complex is more Max's thing," Michael replied.

Max ran a hand through his hair and added softly, "She'll die soon. If we don't change the future, she'll die, saving us from Nicolas." He didn't add that Michael would be devastated. He didn't add that Isabel would nearly end up sacrificing herself to save them as well. He didn't add that Tess would lose control of her powers and conjure a giant ball of fire that would wipe out the skins, but leave her feeling scared and vulnerable.

Some things it was just better not to know.

"I think we should call Liz," Alex said, breaking the silence. "And then I think we should go through all the memories you have of the different timelines. Whatever answers we're looking for, they're probably in there."

Max did not argue. He could not delay the inevitable any longer. He'd gotten through the first meeting with Michael and Maria, with Isabel, with Alex, with Tess… and now it was time to face Liz.

But the knowledge that he had to do this, that he didn't have any choice, did not ease the fear that coalesced into a knot in his stomach, did not stop his mind from wondering just how he was supposed to survive seeing her so soon after he had left her behind.


	5. The Forth Dimension: Time

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: The timeline that Max remembers in this chapter is significantly different from the others, and it shows a dark side of all the characters, Max and Michael in particular. Don't worry, all will be explained. And, in fact, I will spend a lot of time on this particular future, and on the relationship between Max and Liz that exists in it.

Summary: How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more until he finally got it right?

* * *

The Forth Dimension: Time

_This time, like all times, is a very good time, if we but know what to do with it._

_-Ralph Waldo Emerson_

He sensed her presence before he heard her voice, before he saw her. It was just the faintest glimmer of something in his chest, an emotion that wound itself so tightly around his heart, he thought it might stop beating. She was on the pavement outside the building, then she was walking up the staircase, then she was just outside the door.

Then he heard her voice.

"Maria, why are you being so secretive about this? Just tell me what's going on…"

He had his back to her, and was looking out of the window, focusing on the blue of the sky and the shimmering lines of heat that stood out against the sprawling desert. He heard her stop speaking, heard the sharp intake of her breath as she caught sight of him, but still did not turn around.

He could not bring himself to look at her.

"Who is that?" she asked, and he slowly, reluctantly, turned around. The question died on Liz's lips as she gazed at him, and when he met her eyes, the rest of the world fell away.

"_Max, stop it! Just… stop. Listen to yourself, listen to what you are saying," Liz argued, her face flushed crimson with anger even as her eyes widened with fear. "Please… this isn't you. I _know_ it isn't you."_

_He looked at her, his expression blank. Part of him longed to believe her, to believe that he was really the person she remembered. But another part of him knew that too much had changed, and that part was suddenly writhing with fury that she would come back into his life and try to change him._

"_You weren't here," he said, his voice soft, but filled with venom. "You weren't there when the skins attacked. You weren't there when my mother was killed, when Isabel was taken, when Kyle disappeared. You weren't there when Maria died. You _weren't_ there."_

_She froze as though he had slapped her, and tears welled in her eyes. "I never asked you to shut me out of your life," she said finally, finding her voice. "That was your decision, not mine."_

"_No?" he questioned, biting back a harsh laugh. "And whose decision was it to walk away? You left first, Liz, and did you even bother to look back?"_

_She lowered her gaze. "I had to do what was right for me," she said quietly._

_He looked at her, then looked away. "And now I have to do what is right for me," he answered, and then turned and walked away from. And this time, he was the one who did not look back._

"…really not possible."

"I know it seems crazy, Liz, but it's true. That really is Max."

When Max was finally able to get a grip on his memories and bring himself back into reality, Liz and Maria were arguing. Liz was still staring at him with the same bewildered expression, and Maria was trying her best to explain everything, although it was clear she did not have enough answers to satisfy her friend's analytical mind.

Both Isabel and Michael were giving Max a shrewd look, but he shook his head silently at them. He knew they had seen his momentarily unfocused expression, had surmised that he had been in another memory. But now was not the time or place to explain what he had seen – and he was not entirely sure he could, anyway.

The flashes were becoming more vivid, and yet also making less and less sense.

"You're from the future," Liz whispered finally, speaking directly to him.

He swallowed and nodded, uneasy. She was still staring at him, as though waiting for more information, for an explanation that would ease her confused mind. Or perhaps she was waiting to wake up, to find that this was all just a very convoluted and bizarre dream.

Whatever she was waiting for, he knew he would not be able to give it.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something. "Liz…" His throat was dry, and the words got stuck. Everything he wanted to say floated around him in the air, _I love you_ and _please don't leave_ and _be careful_ hovering in front of him like dialogue bubbles in cartoons. They reverberated so loudly in his mind that he could hear nothing else, and wondered silently how the others were not deafened by the volume of his thoughts.

"No… no. I don't… I don't know who you are, but you… you're not Max." She turned to Isabel and Michael, a pleading look in her eyes. "This isn't possible."

"Liz, I know this is hard to believe," Max argued, his tone shaking slightly at the fact that she was pulling away from him, physically stepping backwards.

"No. There's no such thing as time travel," Liz argued, her words emphatic. "Okay? Because… it goes against every rule of physics, of reality, of… everything."

"Look, I know this is overwhelming…"

"You're not Max, okay?" Liz said firmly, looking away from him. "You're… you're like a shape-shifter. Or some other kind of alien… with… with the ability to look like Max with that beard and… and those gray hairs…"

Automatically, Max raised his hand to his head and demanded, "You see gray hairs?" Isabel chuckled slightly at that, and even Michael grinned, rolling his eyes.

Liz, however, did not look amused. "This isn't funny, okay!"

"Liz…" he murmured, almost begging.

Liz looked to Michael and Isabel for confirmation, and upon receiving a nod from Isabel, she looked back at Max with wonder in her gaze. "I… what… if you're really… you… then… how are you… here?"

"_Spread out," Max ordered tersely to the people following him. "Search for survivors. Eliminate any threats. Spare the humans."_

_The others nodded silently, melting into the shadows and out of sight. Only Michael remained at his side, his expression impassive, his eyes cold. The two remained standing there, silent for a moment._

_Then Michael said, "Khivar is getting reckless. I don't like this. He's up to something."_

_Max nodded and turned away from Michael, walking along the broken pavement. "I know. Any thoughts?" he asked as he let his gaze sweep back and forth around him._

"_Nothing good," Michael answered, and they continued walking in silence._

"_Sir?"_

_Michael and Max turned in unison, facing the soldier who had spoken. He stepped out of the shadows, dragging someone behind him, and addressed them politely, respectfully, "We found one. A human." He pushed the woman he was holding forward so that they could see her face, and Max felt as though the world had fallen away from him._

_He could not speak, but Michael spoke for him, a single, astounded word. A name. "Parker."_

_Liz stared at Max, her unkempt hair falling around red-rimmed eyes. "Max…" she whispered, and Max saw the soldier start in surprise and turn towards Liz, wondering who she was. _No one_ referred to Max by his first name, no one except Michael. The fact that she had called him Max would cause some to start asking questions, but Max had no time to worry about that._

_He continued to stare at her._

_Liz spoke again, her voice shaking. "I… what… how are you… here?"_

"Don't ask," Isabel said, stepping in between Max and Liz. "I really don't want to hear him stutter through that explanation again."

Max shook his head in amusement. He knew Isabel had interrupted the conversation to give him time to think, to collect his thoughts. Even now, even when he was so much older, so much more experienced, than she was, she was still trying to protect him.

Typical Isabel.

Of course, that desire to protect others was also what would get her killed.

Max stepped around Isabel and rested a hand on her arm. She looked at him, a question in her gaze, but he just gave her a reassuring smile. This was something he would have to face alone, she could not help him. It was ironic, he reflected as he turned his attention back to Liz, that he had faced the skins and the FBI, and yet it was Liz who terrified him the most.

If she didn't believe him, if she didn't trust him…

She let out a breath. "Okay. You're… you. Why are you here?"

* * *

Max smiled faintly, and did his best to explain.

"Why isn't Max… not you, I mean… _our_ Max… why isn't he here?" Maria asked when Max finished his explanation. She was sitting on the sofa, next to Liz. Alex was standing behind them, and Isabel was perched on the edge of a chair across from Max, and Michael was standing, leaning against the wall. Tess was standing as well, opposite them.

"I can't be in the same room with him," Max explained. "It's… complicated. I don't really understand it. But there will be a… reaction. We could both just… cease to exist."

"I still think we should tell him what's going on," Isabel argued, frowning. "I don't like lying to him."

But Max knew himself well enough to know that telling his past self would prove to be a problem. He was far too suspicious, far too protective, to agree to stay out of this. He would go looking for answers, demand more explanations, and probably end up getting himself into trouble in the process. It wasn't worth the risk.

"Well, look at it this way," he offered, "I'm giving you permission to lie to me. So it's fine."

Isabel did not look convinced, but Tess spoke up before the argument could continue, "So… about all these different timelines… any idea why you're remembering them now?"

Max shrugged. "No, not really." Tess nodded and lowered her gaze, thinking, and Max gave her a shrewd look. Although he had been focused almost exclusively on Liz during the prior conversation, he had not missed the flash of jealousy in her eyes when he had turned to Liz. She had obviously picked up on the emotion there, and she was not happy about it.

Part of him knew he should be sensitive to Tess' feelings, but the other part didn't really care. He couldn't change how he felt, and given what he had seen about her in his alternate lives, he wasn't sure how much he really cared about her opinions anyway.

"Whatever the answer is to saving the world," Isabel commented, "it's probably in those memories."

"What are the similarities?" Liz asked softly. "I mean, out of the timelines that you remember. What patterns are there?"

Max considered this for a moment, lost in thought. He had noticed some patterns, though he was not sure he wanted to mention them to the others in the room. They were so young, so innocent, so untouched by this war. He did not want to take that way from him, although he knew he had to.

With a reluctant sigh, he said, "Things aren't always the same. Most of the time, my mother is killed early on. Most of the time, it is Liz who meets Serena. Most of the time, it is a combination of the skins and the FBI who kill us." He folded his arms across his chest and said, "But I don't really know how much I can tell you. There are people who you haven't met yet, and I don't want to… to somehow ruin things. Make them worse."

"Can they get worse than they already are right now?" Maria countered pointedly. "Isn't that the whole reason you came back? Because your future went to hell in a hand-basket?"

"I never understood that phrase," Michael commented casually, looking from Max to Maria.

"It means everything is going to hell," Alex supplied helpfully.

'Yes, I _know_ that," Michael retorted in exasperation, giving Alex an annoyed look. "But what's a hand-basket, and how does it have anything to do with going to hell?"

"I think a hand-basket is a basket meant to be carried by hand," Liz explained thoughtfully, leaning forward on the sofa. She'd pulled her knees into her chest and tucked her feet under her, arms wrapped around the tops of her legs.

Michael stared at her blankly, then drawled, "How creative. A hand-basket is a basket meant to be carried by hand. _Brilliant_."

Isabel glared at them both, and cut in sharply, "Don't you think we have more important things to focus on at the moment? You know, like saving the world?" Liz had the grace to look abashed by Isabel's rebuke, but Michael just rolled his eyes.

Max smiled to himself as he watched the exchange. Some things would never change, no matter how much life threw at them. Though time would make them all more serious, at least for the moment, they could still get caught up in bickering over the literal and figurative meaning of an idiom.

"Maria's right, though," Michael said, turning back to Max. "You are here for a reason, right?"

Max frowned, wanting to argue, wanting to explain. They didn't really understand what knowledge of the future could do to them, and he couldn't blame them for their curiosity. But he knew, all too well, the perils of revealing information about something that might never come to pass. Even now, as he stared at them, he could not control his emotions, could not keep his mind in check. He was haunted by vague memories of other timelines, other futures he had never witnessed, and he did not want that for any of them.

Besides that, of course, was the simple fact that anything he said could change the future in ways they didn't want. He could tell Isabel that about half the time she'd end up with Alex, but that half he time she ended up with someone else – this Jesse person – and what good would that do her? The same held true for Kyle and Tess, who sometimes married each other, and sometimes married someone else.

He slanted a look at Liz. He didn't end up with her in every timeline, and that surprised him far more than he had expected it to. Everything he had seen and experienced indicated to him that the timelines, though similar, did still differ from each other in distinct ways. It should not have come as a surprise that his relationship with Liz had varied as well.

And yet… it was Liz. He'd taken it for granted that they would always be together.

Always.

But they hadn't always ended up together, and that knowledge was pulling him apart. How could he survive in a world like the one he had come from… how could he survive without her by his side?

"Maxwell? You in there?" Michael snapped, waving his hand at Max in annoyance. "Earth to Max. Focus."

He looked up sharply at his best friend and sort-of brother. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here for a reason. I do want to change the future. I just… don't want to make it worse."

"How much worse can it get?" Tess countered pointedly.

Max gave a bitter laugh. "That's not a question you ever want to ask," he replied. "We need more answers._ I_ need more answers. We went into this war blind, not really knowing anything. We can't afford to do that this time."

"The Destiny Book has answers," Tess suggested. "If we can get it translated…"

"No!" The word burst from Max's lips before he could stop himself, and the others all started, surprised by his vehement refusal. A look of anger flashed through Tess' eyes, and she opened her mouth to say something, probably to argue the point, but Max rushed on, "Trying to translate the Book is a bad idea. Trust me."

"Why is it a bad idea?" Tess asked curiously. "It has the answers, Max. It can tell us who we are."

"We know who they are," Maria cut in sharply, glaring at Tess. "Destiny doesn't mean anything. And it certainly didn't help the situation, did it?"

The pixie blonde was remarkably close to starting accusing Tess of trying to split them apart, and Max thought it prudent to intervene at that moment. "I spoke too hastily," he said carefully, looking quickly towards Alex. "The Destiny Book might have answers for us. But we need to be careful… It is dangerous. I can't really explain it, but… trust me…"

Tess looked hesitant, her blue eyes still filled with suspicion. After a moment, she said slowly, "Alright, fine. It's dangerous. But _why_? It's just a book. Why are you so against it?"

Max looked over at Liz. She was staring at the ground, and he could not read her gaze. But he knew her, knew that she was probably silently wondering the same thing. He didn't know exactly where he was in time, but he remembered vaguely that this was around the point in their relationship when she was convinced he would soon turn away from her, pick Tess, and live happily ever after.

She didn't want to stand in the way of his destiny.

When would she learn that she _was_ his destiny?

"Max?" Tess demanded. He snapped his gaze to her, and saw the hurt in her eyes, and the anger. She had noticed how he kept looking back at Liz, how it was the brunette that held his attention, no matter who was talking.

But he couldn't help the fact that Liz would always have a hold on his heart.

"In one of the futures," Max said carefully, picking his words with caution, "we do attempt to translate the Destiny Book. Actually, we succeed at it. Well, Alex did. And…" He looked at the blue-eyed boy as he spoke, as he reluctantly revealed, "And it killed him."

Maria and Liz both looked up, horrified and appalled by that. They both twisted on the sofa to look up at their friend, Maria clasping Alex's hand so suddenly, so tightly, that Alex jumped in surprise. Liz was more restrained in her display of emotion, though her brown eyes glittered with tears. She rested her hand on top of his and Maria's, her fingers gentle and soft.

Alex gave a smile, forced around the edges, and said with a little bit of a laugh, "I'm not dead yet. No need to panic."

Max looked first at Isabel, wondering how she was taking this news. She looked upset, but her expression was closely guarded, and Max knew he could only see the fear because he knew her so well. Whether it was pride or stoic courage that kept her from showing the extent of her feelings, he did not know. But when she spoke, her voice shook ever so slightly.

"How? How did he… what happened?"

"I don't know," Max lied. Well, he justified it to himself, it wasn't _really_ lying. He didn't know the full details. He had disjointed memories of Tess betraying them, of Alex's body sprawled against the twisted metal of the car, of the disgust in Kyle's voice as he spilled the truth. But he didn't know the full story, didn't know the why and the how and then when.

And revealing the truth… that Tess had killed Alex… he wasn't convinced that Tess was the enemy. In fact, he was incredibly sure that she could be one of his strongest allies. But if he told the others now, they would turn against her, and that would definitely drive her to the skins.

But why had she joined the skins in the first place?

He didn't know, and it bothered him. Until he knew the answer to that, how could he trust her?

There was a silence, then, as the others tried to wrap their mind around what he had said. He looked at Tess, and saw that she was giving him a shrewd look. He wondered what she was thinking, wondered if she had somehow guessed the truth. Did she know what her future actions would be?

Finally, Michael asked logically, "Did he die in more than one timeline?"

"Because of the Destiny Book?" Max questioned, and Michael nodded. He rubbed his eyes wearily, trying to remember. "Yes, I think so. I don't know for certain, but… I think so."

"So maybe that is something," Michael mused thoughtfully. "A clue."

"It's a lousy clue," Maria grumbled, still holding Alex's hand tightly. "We have to make sure it doesn't happen." She gave Max a contemplative look, then said, "If you don't know the specifics of what killed Alex, then I say we don't bother trying to translate the Destiny Book. It's too risky, because we don't know what to watch for."

She looked at Tess, daring the other girl to argue.

Tess folded her arms over her chest and glared silently, but said nothing. The tension in the room rose exponentially as the two faced each other, but for some reason that Max could not fathom, Tess still did not argue with what Maria had declared.

"So… what now?" Michael asked, clearing his throat.

"We fix this," Maria said, as though it was really that simple.

_Max stared coldly at the group gathered before him. He was flanked on either side by soldiers, and Michael stood near the only door of the room, his own guards gathered behind him, effectively cutting off any chance of escape. They were trapped in the room, these people who stood, staring steadily anywhere but at him._

"_Which one of you is in charge?" Max demanded, his voice glacial and dangerously soft._

_One of the men stepped forward, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. "I am," he spat, his voice loud, too loud. It echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls. It was filled with false bravado, and Max allowed himself a small smile of triumph._

_The man might be brave, but he was also terrified._

"_Your name?" Max asked in the same tone, his voice still deceptively casual despite the underlying ice._

_The man sneered. "Does my name mean anything to you?" he hissed, his words dripping with venom. "I'm just a human, after all. Disposable, right?"_

_Max clenched his hands into fists at his side, and out of the corner of his eye, saw Michael stiffen at the door. The other soldiers and guards in the room – Max's followers – shifted about anxiously. They were ready for blood._

_Everyone was always ready for blood._

_Max stepped closer to the man, taking in his green eyes, his sandy-brown hair, his tanned skin lined with scars, a testament to the battles he had fought. In this time, everything was fighting, everything was war. Everything was survival, and the lines between right and wrong had been blurred until only one rule remained._

_Stay alive by any means, no matter how cruel or bloody._

_Max reached out casually with one hand and the man suddenly rose into the air. He cried out in surprise, an instinctual response, a guttural, indecipherable word that escaped his throat before he could keep regain his composure._

"_Put me down, you freak!" the man snarled._

_Max ignored the words and said simply, "You are a human. Disposable. Just like the one you killed."_

_The others seemed to gather together, their strength fueled by desperation as they saw their leader suspending helplessly above them. A few whispered words of protest, and one even stepped forward with a viciously pointed glare and spat, "Let him go, you freak."_

_A flicker of cool emotion glimmered in Max's eyes. He smirked, and he knew by the way the others suddenly drew back that the change in his expression made him look more terrifying, not less. "As you wish," he drawled, and flicked his wrist, sending the man spiraling through the air. He slammed into the far wall, sliding to the ground in a stunned heap at Michael's feet._

"_You bastard!" another cried and rushed forward. It was a woman, with long black hair and wild, frantic eyes. She glared at him with loathing and hatred, and with a disgust so passionate, so strong, that Max was taken aback by its intensity._

_Many people hated him, but there was something so different about her eyes. So… piercing. So strong._

"_Why don't you fight us like a man?" she continued, the words tumbling from her lips. "Instead of hiding behind your powers and your alien followers, why don't you face us? Or are you too much of a coward to do even that?"_

_Max shook his head. "Coward?" he whispered. Then, louder, "You dare call me a coward?"_

"_That's what you are," she rejoined. "A coward. You didn't even give him a chance to defend himself."_

_She was suddenly flung backwards. Max had not even moved, but the rage had caused his powers to explode out of him, rushing through the room and pinning her to the floor. They all heard the audible crack of her arm breaking as it snapped underneath her body, and pain swam in her eyes. But she could not move._

_As soon as it had come, the explosion of power was gone, although the rage lingered behind, simmering in Max's expression. He walked forward, and the soldiers behind him jumped forward, using their arms and their powers to push the others out of the way, to give Max the space he needed._

_The hybrid king knelt before the woman and placed his hand on her arm. Beneath his fingers, her bone began to mend, her skin knit itself back together, her blood stopped spilling from torn veins and arteries. Beneath his fingers, she was healed, and he could see the pain slowly start to recede from her expression._

_Then he said softly, knowing that everyone was watching him with abated breath, knowing that every word he said would be heard no matter how quiet he was, "And tell me, did you give Maria a chance? You call me a coward, but you and your friends ambushed an unarmed woman. A human. You killed her, without mercy, without justice. And without even allowing her a single chance to fight back." He rose to his feet and asked, "Tell me, why should I give you what you did not give her?"_

_He turned his back on them, a quick, dismissive gesture. He did not care what they said, what innocence they tried to plead, what justifications they gave. He still remembered Michael's haunted expression when they brought back Maria's body, and even through he was not looking at the hybrid General, he knew Michael was only barely keeping his temper and his grief under control._

_They had killed Maria._

_Michael had wanted to be the one to deal with them, but Max had refused. Even at the best of times, Michael could not always be trusted to keep his powers in check. Max's display of rage might have been frightening, but it was nothing compared to what Michael would have done, had he been the one holding the interrogation. His fury would have easily been enough to destroy the prisoners… and possible himself as well._

"_Get this scum out of my sight," Max ordered tersely, and the guards around Michael jumped forward to obey the command._

_And then they were all gone, and it was only Michael and Max left in the room._

"_What now?" Michael asked, a rhetorical question that they both knew did not have a good answer._

Max opened his eyes to find himself lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling of Michael's apartment. Isabel was hovering over him, her long blonde hair falling into her eyes as she pressed a cool washcloth against his forehead. Behind her, Max could see Liz looking scared, anxious, and confused, and Alex trying to whisper words of comfort to his friend.

"Are you alright?" Isabel asked softly.

Max shifted to sit up, and felt hands helping him from behind. He looked over his shoulder and met Michael's unreadable gaze. "What happened?" he asked.

"You just collapsed," Maria answered, stepping into her line of vision. "Fell forward to the ground."

"What did you see?" Isabel questioned as she continued to hold the cool cloth to his head.

He looked at her, then let his gaze slide sideways to Maria. He could not forget those eyes, that piercing gaze of the woman whose arm he had broken, and then healed. He could not forget the hatred he had felt and the loathing he had seen reflected in her face.

He could not forget the fury that welled within him as he spoke of Maria's death.

"The future," he murmured after a moment of contemplation. "I saw… I saw a future that…" He trailed off, unsure how to describe it. Unsure how to describe what he had witnessed, what he had felt, what he had done in that memory.

Unsure how to explain what he had become.


	6. The Fifth Dimension: Negativity

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Okay, so this chapter is very much focused on Tess. I know, I know, my love of the complexities of her character has once again worked its way into my stories. Just to even things out, I threw in a whole angst-filled Max/Liz part as well.

Summary: How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more times until he finally got it right?

* * *

The Fifth Dimension: Negativity

_Our negative experiences in life are essential elements for us to fulfill our intended destiny._

_-- Chin-Ning Chu_

"Just focus," Isabel said softly, taking Max hands in her own. "Breathe slowly. And _focus_."

Max shifted uncomfortably and fought back the urge to roll his eyes at Isabel's words. It was easy for her to tell him he just needed to focus. Easier for her to act as though this wasn't awkward and filled with unease. She was invading his mind, and even though yes, he had agreed to the plan, and yes, he did trust her, it was still…

Disconcerting.

But Isabel had said she might be able to use her dream-walking gifts to pull out the memories, make them more clear, more sharp and bright and easily readable. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea, wasn't really sure if he _wanted_ the memories to be clear. He knew he wanted answers, but after everything he had seen…

As much as he wanted them, he also dreaded them, dreaded the knowledge they would bring.

Dreaded having to share them with others. He still wanted to protect them, protect Isabel, from what she might find inside his brain,

Didn't she knew how dangerous this was?

Michael had gotten up and walked out of the room, muttering something about needing to get a Snapple. And something about new-age science fiction stuff being pathetic. Obviously, he didn't think much of Isabel's plan to find the answers by just _focusing_.

Maria, of course, had responded to that mumbled comment by jumping to Isabel's defense and arguing staunchly in favor of the whole mind over matter idea. Max half-expected her to start pulling out scented candles and cedar oil, and he had watched with bemusement as she stalked after Michael into the kitchen.

Which left the hybrid King alone with Isabel, Alex, Liz, and Tess. He and Isabel were sitting on the sofa, and Tess was perched on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward so that she was close enough to them to lend her own strength and mental support should Isabel need it. Alex and Liz stood in the background, looking out of sorts, as though they weren't quite sure if they could really be any help.

"Focus," Isabel said again.

"I _am_," Max grumbled, knowing he sounded petulant and not particularly caring.

With a wry smile, Isabel prompted, "The last memory you saw, the one that made you faint. Do you have any questions about it?"

"Besides what was it, why did it happen, how did it happen, when did it happen, what were the causes, and what were the outcomes?" Max deadpanned. "No, not really."

Isabel bit back a smile, and chuckled slightly. It felt good, Max reflected, to be able to talk so carelessly, to make jokes, to take a moment to act like the teenager they were, the teenager he wished he could have been. To forget about the war, about the world ending, about the future…

About the person he had become.

It chilled him, remembering that last memory. Remembering how good it felt to lash out at them, and how casually he had turned his back on the others and ordered them to be taken from the room. He wondered what had happened to them, but he was also afraid he knew the answer. He remembered the rage he had felt facing them, remembered how much he wanted them to pay for their crimes, for Maria's death. He had the sinking suspicion that whatever he had ultimately done… it hadn't been pleasant.

What had happened to make him that person? What had set him on that path?

Where had it all begun?

He felt Isabel's hands tighten around his, heard her whisper again, "Focus on the answers you're looking for." For a brief moment, he looked away from Isabel and met Liz's doe-eyed gaze. Then Isabel said again, "Focus," and he closed his eyes in an attempt to find the answers.

"_If the Army is looking for an alien," Michael suggested coolly, "then why don't we just give them one?"_

_Max turned, surprised and somewhat horrified by the suggestion. And it seemed as though he was not the only one, the others around him were wearing looks of shock._

"_Turn her in?" Isabel breathed. Max watched his sister, watched the tears glistening in her eyes._

"_Then the Army would have what they want," Maria agreed slowly, _smugly_, her gaze turning steadily towards the petite blonde hybrid, the topic of their conversation, "and they wouldn't bother us anymore."_

"_I'm sensing a plan B," Kyle commented._

_Max frowned at the blankness of Tess' eyes. Ever since she had revealed that their son did not, in fact, need them to survive, her expression had remained impassive. Even at Michael's suggestion, she had seemed almost indifferent, as though she did not even care that they were considering throwing her in the white room. _

"_No," he said finally, softly, more to himself. It was a murmur, low and gentle, and he wasn't even entirely sure that he believed what he was saying. But some part of him felt compelled to say it, to remind the others that they were supposed to be better than the FBI, better than the skins. "They'll throw her in a white room… study her like a lab rat for the rest of her life…"_

_He wanted to say more. The words were there, in the back of his throat, ready to come out. _I've been there, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.

_He should have said them, he knew that. And yet… he didn't._

_Because some part of him did wish that on Tess._

"_Max, this isn't a decision you get to make," Isabel said sharply, watery eyes jerking away from Tess and towards him. "It affects all three of us."_

"_No," Maria interjected before Max could respond, and her words were hard, angry. "No, this is not an aliens-only decision. She killed Alex, she killed my _best friend_." There was a pause, then Maria said triumphantly, "I say we get to vote."_

"_Alright," Max agreed._

"_Do it," Maria said, instantly casting her vote and then turning her back on Tess, arms folded over her chest. "Turn her in."_

"_We shouldn't be doing this," Jim spoke up from the back of the room. "I vote no."_

_Max was barely listening. He heard Michael cast his vote, against Tess, and then Kyle shake his head and slowly mutter that he couldn't do this, that in the end he was not able to bring himself to turn against her. And then Isabel's voice, haunted and bitter as she reminded Tess of everything that had happened – of _Alex_ – and she cast her vote against the hybrid Queen. Jesse abstained from voting, having never met either the victim or the killer, and the others accepted that._

_But all of this seemed to happen at a distance, separated from him by a thin veil of fog, and he was far more consumed by his own thoughts, his own questions about what he should do, how he should vote._

_Maria, Michael, Isabel against Tess, Kyle and Jim for her. If he voted to save her, it would be a tie, and they would not turn her in. If he voted against her…_

"_Max?" Isabel prompted._

_He ran a hand through his hair, wondering abruptly what Liz would have done in this situation. _But Liz isn't here_, he reminded himself, _and she hasn't been for a while_. Not since she went to boarding school, not since she moved away and didn't look back. Because of Tess, because of what she had done to them all._

_It wasn't just Alex that Tess had taken from them, it was Liz as well._

_He looked at her, at those sky blue eyes, and felt his stomach twist sharply, felt himself fill with anger and rage and grief. "Alright," he said, his voice steady, his words blunt, "I vote yes. Turn her in."_

When he opened his eyes, he was aware of several things. One, Liz was at his side, a look of worry in her eyes as her hand hovered in midair, inches away from his shoulder, caught half-way in between trying to offer him comfort and trying to keep her distance. Two, his eyes were filled with tears, and he thought they must have been tears of anger. Three, Michael and Maria had entered the room once more, and were looking at the entire scene with wide eyes.

And four, Isabel was on her feet, her face apoplectic with rage as she spun to face Tess.

"Murderer," she snarled, her voice hoarse with choked emotion, with a fury that glimmered in her eyes. There was something stunning about an enraged Isabel, something that made her seem less human and more alien, more regal. Her blonde hair somehow fluttered about her of its own accord, and power radiated from her.

"_What_?" Tess asked, her word a mere whisper. She was not looking at Isabel, however, but at Max, and as Max met her gaze, he saw the desperation there. She was asking him a silent question, pleading to understand what Isabel could have seen that would have caused her to turn so fiercely upon a supposed friend.

"You _killed_ Alex," Isabel said, stressing the middle word, the accusation lingering in the suddenly tense air.

Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw Maria and Liz move instinctively to Alex's side. Michael was still watching the entire exchange, though his expression had changed from would-be indifference to an anger that lay just beneath the surface of his stony gaze.

"I didn't kill anyone, Isabel," Tess shot back, pointing towards Alex. "He's still alive!"

Isabel advanced, looming over the shorter hybrid. For a moment, Max wondered if she was about to attack, she looked so passionately angry that she might have torn Tess limb from limb. Maria had moved forward as well, standing just behind Isabel as though she thought her presence might somehow increase the likelihood of Tess cowering before them.

Apparently, neither of them had prepared themselves for Tess fighting back, and as Isabel reached out to grab the hybrid Queen's arm – for a purpose Max was not entirely sure of – Tess shoved Isabel. Hard.

She stumbled back, and Alex was suddenly at her side, both arms wrapping around her to keep her from falling. Max noted with an odd detachment that Alex seemed to be the only one unmoved by the accusation Isabel had made. While Isabel and Maria were both quivering with wrath, while Liz looked scared, and even Michael showed worry in his otherwise stoic expression, Alex was simply staring at Tess with a scrutinizing frown.

Isabel pulled herself from Alex's grip and turned to him, her anger softening. "Get back," she said, fear making her tone far harder than it needed to be. "Stay away from her, Alex."

And Max couldn't help but smile as he realized what he was witnessing. This memory, this perceived threat to Alex's life, this possibility that he might die… that had done what all his months of wishing had not accomplished. It had made Isabel realize just how much she loved him.

But Max could not dwell on that. Tess, he saw, was moving away from them, walking towards the door of the apartment. And he knew, somehow, that he had to stop her from leaving. If she walked out of that door, she would end up walking out of Roswell completely. And he could not let that happen.

Under no circumstances could Tess be allowed to walk away from them.

"Tess, wait," he said, raising his voice to be heard over Alex's gentle protests as he tried to convince Isabel that he was fine, that there was no reason to be so worried.

Tess paused at the door and looked at him, her expression unreadable.

"Don't you dare leave," Maria hissed, pushing past Alex and Isabel and marching up to Tess. "Don't you dare walk out of here!"

"Maria, stop it," Max said, trying to intervene before anything got too out of hand. "Just listen to me…"

But Maria wasn't listening. And neither, it appeared, was anyone else.

"You think you can waltz out of here after we just learned what you planned?" Isabel demanded, her voice a screech. "Why did you do it, Tess? Why'd you kill him?"

"I _didn't_! He's not dead."

"How long does he have? When do you plan on committing the murder? A day, a week, a month? _Why_, Tess?"

"_Stop it_!" Max shouted, his voice reverberating in the room. There was a sudden hush and all eyes turned towards him. "Stop it," he said again, his voice lower, quieter, but still firm. "Sit _down_, all of you."

"Max…" Isabel started, but he cut her off with a glare.

"_Now_," he ordered, and surprisingly, Isabel complied.

Tess, however, did not. She stood at the door, one hand resting on the doorknob, her eyes dark. There was little patience in her gaze, and nothing at all to suggest that she would bother listening to him. Behind the coldness, however, he sensed something else. Something that it took a moment to identify as pain.

"Tess…" he took a deep breath, then softened his voice and said, "come back. Sit down." Another pause, then, "Please."

She didn't sit, but she did take a few steps back into the room, and folded her arms over her chest, silently waiting for him to continue, to elaborate on everything that had just happened.

Max ignored Isabel's glacial gaze, ignored Maria's muttering, ignored the way Liz hovered at Alex's side. He ignored Michael's tense posture, ignored the stress that lingered over all of them, filling the air with undeniable anxiety. Instead, he tried to clear his mind and focus on the only thing that mattered - understanding.

"Tell me about Nasedo's deal?" he requested, trying to sound polite.

Tess looked a little surprised, then she said slowly, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He opened his mouth to retort, then shut it again. The silence was almost painful.

"He's dead now, isn't he?" Max pressed after a moment, and Tess gave a small nod. "So then he must have already made the plan, and already told you about it." On a hunch, he continued, "But you said no."

Tess bit her lip, seemingly debating something. Then she made a choice. "That's why they killed him."

"The skins?" Max asked, and Tess nodded.

"I wouldn't take the deal. Nasedo told them that and they got angry. I… he told me he thought he might be in danger, but not to interfere. No matter what. It wasn't worth my life, and as long as they thought there was some chance I might take it…the deal, I mean… they wouldn't kill me."

Max accepted this, digesting it in silence. He needed time to think, to try to put the pieces together with the snippets of what he knew of the various futures.

But the others did not have his patience.

"Someone want to fill us in?" Maria demanded.

Max ran a hand through his hair and answered honestly, "I can't. I don't know enough. But…" he looked squarely at Isabel, his gaze unflinching, "Tess is _not_ the enemy."

"But I saw…"

"You saw _one_ future," Max said, emphasizing the word. "And only a glimpse of it. You didn't see enough to know, to really understand…"

"Then explain it to me, Max," Isabel requested firmly. "Because I really want to know why you're defending a murderer. Particularly one who killed Alex."

"Will you stop talking about him like he's dead?" Tess interjected. She and Michael were now the only ones standing, but even the difference in height did not give her much of an advantage over Isabel, Liz, and Maria's angry glares. Max knew that, and could see that she recognized it easily. But Tess was not going to back down, he knew that, too.

"She's not a murderer, Isabel," Max said. He gave Tess a brief look, before turning his full attention back to his irate sister. "And you need to stop calling her that. Because if you drive her away from us, from Roswell, you will be destroying any chance we have to save the future. You will be killing us."

Isabel opened her mouth, probably to argue, and then sighed. Closing it, she shrugged, her fingers still interlocked with Alex's.

"Fine. But someone needs to start explaining _something_."

Max nodded to Tess, "The beginning of this is your story, not mine."

Tess looked at him, her expression so clearly conveying her skepticism. She did not feel like elaborating on anything, not after the accusations that had been hurled her way, and he could not really blame her for that. Nor could he blame her for an action she had not yet committed, particularly when he knew that the Tess from his time had been so firmly entrenched in the group that she would have died for them. In fact, she _had_ died for them, keeping them safe.

He tried again, "Tess… please. It's important, I know it is. But… for what its worth… I trust you. Regardless of what the others say."

Maria scoffed and Liz shook her head in disbelief. Isabel just looked bitter.

Tess sighed and said, "When we first landed, before we hatched… Nasedo was approached by the skins. He was offered a deal. He would give Max and my son… once we… you know, slept together… to Khivar, and in exchange, he would be granted a position in the new regime. And safe passage back to Antar."

"And he took the deal?" Michael snapped. "I thought he was supposed to be our _protector_."

Max felt a twinge of sympathy at the raw betrayal in Michael's tone. It was rare to hear Michael so openly express his sentiments, and he knew what the General was thinking. First Hank, and now Nasedo. The people who were supposed to protect him always seemed to fail at that, to have some hidden agenda, or to simply not care. Perhaps that was what hurt the most, the knowledge that others were just so indifferent to his suffering.

But before Max could say anything on the subject, Maria had risen from her seat by Alex and moved around the sofa to take a position next to Michael, to offer support.

Max smiled inwardly. And then sobered, remembering…

Remembering that, in every timeline he had witnessed, Maria was always one of the first to die.

"He didn't take the deal, at least not at first," Tess answered Michael. "I don't really know the full details. He turned them down, but they didn't kill him. I think they thought they could still convince him. Then… after you three were gone and he found only me in the cave… well, they offered him a different deal. He could guarantee himself a safe passage home… and he could get one for me, too. If I agreed to the plan."

Nasedo had obviously been more tempted by that deal, and Max understood why. Even for a soulless alien killer, it was impossible to spend ten years raising someone, and not feel _something_ for them. It might not have been a good emotion – God knows there were plenty of parents out there who only felt annoyance for their children – but it still would have been something. And that something would have been enough to make him wonder, make him question… could this be a good idea?

"Nasedo told me this at the beginning of the summer, right after we saw the hologram of your mother," Tess continued, now talking to Max. "He had figured out by then that if he pretended to be considering the plan, the skins wouldn't attack him. And… I think he was considering it, at least somewhat. He said he didn't think you three would go back willingly, and that I was the only one who really wanted to return to Antar." Her gaze flickered over the three humans, and she added with a trace of bitterness, "I didn't have the same ties to Earth as you three did."

"Well, maybe if you didn't spend the entire time going on and on about your destiny…" Maria muttered under her breath.

Tess ignored her. "I told Nasedo that I would think about it. Then, I thought about it, and I… I told him no. The skins… they can do this thing where they pull memories out of your mind, and they did that to Nasedo and figured out that I'd said no. They warned him that we would all die, and he… he told me that the best way to protect myself… and Max… was to pretend like I might go along with the deal. After all, we both needed to be alive then, at least until I got pregnant. And he also said that… no matter what happened to him… not to interfere. He really was trying to protect me."

She said the last part with a shakiness in her voice.

"And the skins killed him because they realized he wasn't going to go against your decision," Liz finished, giving Tess a shrewd look, "but didn't kill you because they thought maybe they could change your mind. Maybe they thought that if you saw what they did to Nasedo, you'd join their side to protect yourself."

Tess shrugged. "I guess. Like I said, I don't know all the details. Nasedo's dead now, and I… I never got a chance to ask him anything else."

"Suppose we believe this," Isabel said, her tone still not completely devoid of doubt, "why would you have killed Alex? How would that have helped you?"

"I wouldn't have killed Alex," Tess protested. "And I wouldn't have taken the deal, either."

"But you did," Max countered delicately, feeling the need to interject into the conversation. "I don't know why, and I don't know exactly how Alex died… something about a mind-warp destroying his brain."

Tess frowned. "I'd have to be mind-warping him for weeks… months, maybe, for that to happen."

Max could hardly comment on that, having no idea what had caused Tess to do what she had done in a different future. So instead, he said, "In my timeline… you didn't betray us. In fact, in my timeline, you're killed defending Alex from the skins."

"So, in at least one timeline, you kill Alex. In another, you die trying to save him," Maria mused skeptically. "Are you sure about that?" she asked, looking over at Max.

"Positive."

"Because, maybe she didn't really die. Maybe nothing happened to her. Maybe it really could just be some crazy plan of hers to…"

"Maria, shut up!" Max snapped suddenly, jumping to his feet. Maria looked shocked, and annoyance flashed through Michael's eyes at the way Max had yelled at his girlfriend. But Max didn't care. And he knew he shouldn't be so upset with Maria, knew that her lack of comprehension wasn't entirely her fault. She hadn't been there, so how could she know?

And yet… that was exactly the point. She _hadn't_ been there. She _didn't_ know.

She didn't know what it was like to watch someone she cared about die, brought down by the skins. She hadn't seen Tess' blue eyes cloud over with pain, hadn't smelled blood on the dirt of the desert floor, hadn't tried to heal her and realized, too late, that healing required connecting with a soul that had already slipped away.

She hadn't been forced to attend yet another funeral for someone who never deserved what had happened.

It wasn't so much grief that caused him to lash out at Maria, but rather guilt. Guilt that he had been unable to save Tess, a guilt that came rushing back, reinforced by Maria's unwittingly painful words.

It was then that Alex spoke up, his voice gentle, his words logical. "So, maybe this is where we start."

"What do you mean?" Max asked, forcing himself to sit back down and giving silent thanks that Alex had managed to intercede in the conversation before he'd said too much, before he'd yelled even more at Maria. Before she'd had a chance to retort, and everything had exploded into a full-out fight.

"In some futures, Tess turns on us. In some, she doesn't. That's a pretty drastic change from future to future. So if we can figure out why she made the decisions she did, then maybe we'll find some clues. Some idea for how to prevent the end of the world."

Max was nodding slowly, agreeing with the plan, although Tess looked less than thrilled by the suggestion. But all thoughts of discussing this further rushed from his mind as Liz suddenly rose to her feet and murmured something about needing some water, and walked stiffly into the kitchen.

Max watched her go, able to feel the heartbreak radiating from her, and unable to understand quite what was wrong.

* * *

She was drinking the water she had claimed to need when he entered the kitchen. She turned to look at him, placing the glass on the counter near the edge of the sink, and ran a hand uncertainly over her eyes, brushing away loose strands of hair.

He knew he should say something, but the words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to ask her how she was doing, but it seemed like such a trite question, so cliché at a moment like this.

Fortunately, for him at least, it was Liz who spoke, who broke the uneasy silence.

"You care about her. A lot."

He sighed to himself, wishing he could think of the right words to express how he felt. "I do," he agreed, because he truly did, and Liz deserved the truth. "I care about all of you. We're all… family."

Liz's eyes were shadowed by apprehension, darkened by grief. She opened her mouth, but no words came, and for a split-second, he thought she was about to burst into tears. But she gathered herself together quickly and nodded, turning from him.

"She killed Alex," Liz said. "She… she took…"

"Liz," Max cut her off, reaching for her. "Liz, listen to me. Look at me." Reluctantly, Liz faced him, and he said fervently, "I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world. Don't you understand that?"

"You went to everyone before me," Liz countered in a low murmur, her words only just audible in the stillness of the room. "I was the last to know that you were here. I was the last…"

"Technically, Kyle and Jim will be the last," Max rejoined, because he knew he would have to tell them about him at some point. He needed their help, needed everyone's help, and for good or ill, they were part of the group. And that didn't even consider all the people he wasn't telling, all the people he couldn't tell – his parents, being at the top of that gut-wrenching list.

He'd lost his mother early on in the fight, so long ago that he longed to see her again, to know that she was alive, so vibrantly alive, in this time. But he couldn't, because she didn't know about them yet. She didn't know that he and Isabel were aliens, and until she did learn that, he couldn't risk revealing too many secrets.

Liz was watching him, obviously trying to decipher his thoughts. When it became apparent that she couldn't, that she just didn't know what was happening behind his far away gaze, she wrapped her arms around herself with a downcast expression.

"You seem so reluctant to talk to me," Liz whispered. "To see me. And I…" She stopped, took a breath, forced herself to continue, "I would have liked to have seen you. Earlier. Before… I would have liked to…"

He knew what she was struggling to say, that she wished he would have come to her first. That, even though she was still trying to push him away, still so determined not stand in between him and his supposed destiny, she still harbored the secret desire to be first in his heart.

Didn't she know that it wasn't even his heart anymore, that he'd given it over to her?

He would have written her desires off as petty jealousy, a teenage phase that they were all forced to rather quickly outgrow, but was it really jealousy that made someone wish their soul mate would trust them enough to come to them first? Max could see the betrayal in Liz's eyes, and understood so easily how she felt.

But she was also so wrong.

And she was not the only one who felt betrayed.

Staring at her, Max could not help but wonder, yet again, why his Liz, the one from his time, had not told him the truth. His plan, _their_ plan, had always been to come back to her. And he would have, too, except… except that she hadn't told him that he'd come back before. She hadn't told him, and she must have known, because…

_Liz and Kyle, in bed together…_

He told himself, over and over, that she had a good reason for keeping it a secret. Maybe she didn't want it to influence his decisions, maybe she wanted him to start over, to create this plan without any knowledge detrimentally affect his decisions. He trusted her, with all his heart, and he knew she had made that decision for the right reasons, whatever they may be.

And he would never know what those reasons were because she was gone now, along with that entire future. He'd never get the chance to ask her why she had made that decision.

And why she hadn't trusted him enough to tell him the truth.

He tried to ignore the feeling, but it would not go away. It had not gone away, not since the moment he first saw the flashes and understood what they meant…

Not since the memory of Kyle and Liz in bed, bodies intertwined, sheets and blankets ruffled. She hadn't actually slept with Kyle, he knew that, too, but she had wanted him to think that she had.

Even knowing it was all a lie, even knowing she had probably only been trying to save the future through some misguided and ridiculous attempt to protect him… that memory of her and Kyle…

Just thinking about it seemed to pull at his heart, filling him with an intense emotional pain.

"_There is little difference between what happened with Tess and I and what happened with you and Kyle," Max said tersely, refusing to meet Liz's gaze. He had already borne her accusations and her blame for the person he was now, but he would not let her place all the fault for the past at his feet. She had played a part in it as well._

"_I never slept with Kyle!"_

_He didn't have to be looking at Liz, however, because he could still so easily hear the censure and righteous indignation in her tone._

_But he did look at her then, and she looked back, and there was no spark, no connection. It was as though she had become someone else entirely to him, and he took a savage pleasure in knowing that she could not influence his decisions as easily as she once had._

"_I didn't know that," Max answered. "You act as though you are so innocent, but you aren't. You might not have slept with Kyle, but you let me believe that you had, so what's the difference? You ripped out my heart long before I took yours."_

"_I was trying to save the world," Liz spat._

"_As was I," Max retorted. "You pushed me into Tess' arms. You did everything you could to get me away from you, claiming that it was my Destiny. And then you actually had the nerve to act… _betrayed_… when I went ahead and did exactly what you had wanted me to do."_

"_I never wanted that," Liz countered softly, tears filling her eyes. "I _never_ wanted you to be with anyone besides me."_

_Max laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "And yet you were always the one walking away, Liz. I learned that I was a king, that the fate of an entire world rested on my shoulders… and what did you do? You went to Florida for the summer and refused to even speak to me. I told you that you meant everything to me, that I loved you far more than I would ever love Tess, but you… you didn't care. You didn't care about what I wanted, about what I needed. You made a decision for the two of us, and you never let me have a say. Did it ever even occur to you that maybe I needed someone to talk to about this? That maybe I could have used your help?"_

_She faltered, looking hurt, torn… He turned away from her and she murmured, "Max, I…"_

"_I know," he cut her off. "You had to do what was right for you. Just like you did when you left me… _again_… and went to boarding school in Vermont. So tell me, Liz," he asked without looking at her, "if you never wanted me to be with anyone besides you, why did you always leave me behind?"_

The memory was gone and Liz was staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to answer her question. She didn't know what he was thinking, didn't know what he had seen, and she still wanted to know why he hadn't come to her first.

"You… you and Michael were the only two left," he said, his words broken by emotion that threatened to explode from him even as he tried to hold it all together. The cracks were there, fissures and fault lines in his willpower, crevices that threatened to grow too wide, threatened to tear him apart. He had to hold it together, had to stay strong and focused, and yet… and yet it was so _hard_.

He was gazing at her, tawny eyes meeting her gentle brown ones, and the rest of the world seemed so… distant.

"What do you mean?" Liz asked.

Max forcefully averted his gaze, feeling the bond between them twist and then snap as he tried to gather his thoughts. "All the others had died," he said, "and it was just the three of us. Michael sacrificed his life, fighting the skins, and then we were in the pod chamber and… I _never_ wanted to leave you."

She didn't understand. He could tell that, because there was no comprehension in her eyes. She was waiting for him to say something else, but he didn't know how to make the words sound right, to fully and adequately express all that he needed to say.

And how could she ever really understand when she had no memories of it? The future had not happened to her, not yet, and she did not know what it felt like to watch every die, one by one, and to be helpless to stop most of it. He wished he could have told her how she was the only thing that continually made sense to him in an otherwise chaotic world. He wished he could have explained that leaving her behind, watching the pod chamber crumble around her body, having his last image of his timeline, his future, be her still body sprawled on the ground beneath the swirling blue of the Granolith… that _that_ was the hardest decision he had ever had to make.

That it had been like ripping out his own heart.

But she didn't know, she hadn't been there. And inconceivable loss was just that –inconceivable to those who had not experienced it.

How could she expect him to be prepared to see her again so soon after he had left her behind?

"If you didn't want to leave me," Liz asked, "then why did you? Why didn't you come and find me as soon as you got here?" There was no accusation in her tone, it was a simple question, as though she truly wanted to be able to comprehend what had caused him to make the decisions he had made.

But it wasn't that simple.

And the little voice in his head reminded him softly, _Nothing worth having is ever easy to obtain_.

But still, he took the cowards way out. "I came to you other times," Max said finally. "At least one of them, and I don't know how many others. It didn't work, and I…" _couldn't face you, was falling apart inside, loved you too much to bear seeing you and knowing that I had left you behind_, "…wanted to try something new. Something different. You know… see if I could get it right this time."


	7. The Sixth Dimension: Relativity

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note (part-one): Wow… so, I didn't really expect to come back from vacation and see those reviews… And, I guess I have a couple things I need to say about them.

I wrote this story and posted it on this website with the full understanding that people would read it and form opinions. I specifically stated in the summary of this story that it would be **M/L and M/M** and that **isn't** going to change. The whole reason I post the pairings in the summary is because I want my readers to know if this will be CC or UC (and since I write both, it makes it even more necessary for me to tell people ahead of time because they won't have any other way of knowing). You can still express your dislike of the pairings in the story, but I won't change them once I have started the you want a story with a certain pairing, you can always send a message to me requesting that, and I will reply. I might just end up telling you that I have too many stories on my plate at the moment and can't add another one quite yet, and will try to get around to it later. But that is a better way of getting a story with a pairing you like from me than asking me to change a pairing once I have already started a story.

If you truly don't like the pairings, I am not sure why you would want to read the story, but I recognize the fact that you might still decide to read it, and you are welcome to post anything you want about my plot, my characters, or my writing in your review. Which means you can even post flames. (Although if I find them particularly offensive, I might take them down). Where I do draw the line, is with reviews that are offensive to my readers. If you disagree with something a reviewer has said, you can either tell them directly through a message to their account (if the review is signed) or you can post a reply in your own review as long as that reply is _civil_. Everyone has opinions, and I certainly will not prevent anyone from expressing their opinion as long as it is done with _courtesy _for your fellow reviewers.

So, if you go to look at the reviews page, you will see that many of the reviews were taken down. I did not initiate that, but I do support my readers' right to request the site to take down offensive or insulting reviews. Usually I do see this account a bit more frequently than I did these past couples weeks, and I would have responded to this sooner, and probably removed the reviews myself.

Just to reiterate… this is my story, and as such, I do not want it used as a means for any reader to insult another. That is not why I posted it. It was posted for the enjoyment of my readers, and I sincerely hope that people will continue to read and enjoy it.

Author's note (part-two): A few people have mentioned the absence of present Max and Kyle. I know that I only post up-dates every week or so, so it might seem like it has been longer, but it is actually only the late morning after Future Max has arrived in the past. So it isn't all that surprising that past Max and Kyle haven't realized that anything weird is going on. And they are both mentioned (and their absences dealt with) in this chapter.

* * *

The Sixth Dimension: Relativity

_Relativity teaches us the connections between different descriptions of one and the same reality._

_-Albert Einstein_

It was hard to turn and walk away from Liz, to step out of the kitchen and back into the living room, back into the tension that still lingered in the air, covering everything like an oppressive cloak. He would have given anything and everything to stay there, to talk to Liz, to forget that he had a world to save. He wished he could have explained it to her, could have made her understand…

He wished she could have seen how much he loved her. But she didn't understand that yet, and it would be a while before she did. He knew that, both from his own timeline, and from the vague, disjointed memories of other futures that he had inherited. It always took her a while to look past the present and see that they did have a future together.

Or, at least, they _could_ have that future together. If he had learned nothing else from this ordeal, he had learned that very few things in life were certain.

He was interrupted from his musings, however, by the sudden ringing of the phone. Several sets of eyes swung towards the noise, and Michael crossed the floor of the room quickly to answer it.

"Hello?"

As Michael's expression changed from one of curiosity to one of worry, Max knew instinctively that it was the younger version of himself on the line. After all, it was still morning, and Isabel was not at home. That would make Max – any version of Max – wonder what had happened to her. And Michael was still the most logical place to call, although lately Isabel had been spending less time with him.

"Maxwell. Nice to hear from you, too," Michael drawled sarcastically, and Isabel shot Max a worried look.

He couldn't really blame her for her concern, he knew all too well how stubborn and persistent he could be. If his past self decided that something seemed wrong, if he grew concerned for his friends, his sister… he would not rest until he had figured out what the problem was, and fixed it.

"Yeah, Izzy's here… No, just hanging… yeah… yeah… well, sorry, your Majesty, I didn't realize we weren't allowed to hang out without you." Michael paused for a moment, his gaze switching to Isabel, and then he said with a faint smirk, "Oh, did she? No, she didn't mention that she and Alex had gone on a breakfast date."

Isabel jumped forward at that, trying to snatch the phone out of Michael's grasp, and Alex flushed a light red. Michael backed away, still grinning, holding Isabel off with one arm.

Max smiled nostalgically as he watched Isabel still trying to get the phone away from Michael. Behind him, Liz had come out of the kitchen. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, but he did not turn to face her. He wanted to, but it would ruin whatever self-control he had, and he needed to focus on the more pressing issue at hand.

After a moment, Michael sobered and said, "You wanna come over? I don't know, I think Isabel and I were just heading out. No… everything's fine, Maxwell. Overly suspicious this morning, I see?"

Isabel stopped trying to get the phone. Instead, she looked over at Max, a question in her gaze. He was frowning, though, and only just registered her expression. He blinked at her, then looked at Michael and hissed in a low voice, "You're just going to make him… me… whatever… more suspicious. Tell him that you're heading over to the Crashdown and he can meet you there."

Michael seemed displeased at that plan, although Max wondered if it was because he didn't want to go to the Crashdown, or because he didn't want to be seen as having taken orders from the _king_. Unfortunately, he just didn't remember this particular point in time well enough to know exactly when Michael had gone through his whole rebellious-won't-listen-to-anyone-stage.

"Courtney will be at the Crashdown," Maria remarked, huffing slightly. "Shouldn't you be _delighted_ to go there?"

Michael replied with a glare, and Max fought the urge to roll his eyes. He'd already told Maria that Courtney wasn't interested in Michael, at least not in the romantic sense. But it seemed like no matter what he said or did, those two would always retains bit of themselves, unchanged by the circumstances around them. Perhaps it was for the best, because in his heart, he knew that Michael and Maria wouldn't be _his_ Michael and Maria if they weren't constantly arguing.

"I'm headed to the Crashdown," Michael said finally into the phone, sounding annoyed and reluctant. "You want to meet there?" There was another pause, then Michael said with a tone of boredom and exasperation, "No, I don't know if Liz is working there right now. I don't know… I don't know… Yo, Maxwell, what am I? Your matchmaker?"

The past version of Max must have said something then, ending the conversation, because Michael rolled his eyes and hung up the phone.

"So, what's the plan?" Liz asked, stepping around Max and walking further into the living room. She paused next to Maria, as though needing to stand next to her best friend for some sort of moral support. Max found it ironic, because wasn't he the one who should be needing support at the moment? After their conversation, why was it Liz who looked so much more stressed and drawn?

"Michael can meet Max at the Crashdown," Tess suggested in a cool drawl, "and they can obsess over Liz." There was nothing particularly mean or accusatory in her voice, but the bitterness was evident to everyone else, and it made Liz lower her eyes, as though somehow Max's obsession were all her fault. But Tess continued before anyone could say anything, suggesting, "And the rest of us can stay here and figure this out."

"You want me to just leave?" Michael asked incredulously. "While you try to save the world? Not going to happen."

"You're helping us save the world," Max reasoned. "You're keeping past me from getting too suspicious."

"So you guys are going to try to figure out what went wrong while I sit around with our Max and discuss the unfairness of destiny? Oh, well in _that_ case… My task sounds like so much fun." His tone was dripping sarcasm, a clear indication that he was not pleased with this.

And Max supposed he couldn't really blame the other hybrid for his opinions. He wouldn't like it either, if he was the one put in the position of essentially playing babysitter. But someone had to do it, and Michael was the obvious choice.

Aloud, he said, "Look, I know myself. Obviously. And I know that I am going to come storming in here demanding answers if I get even the slightest bit of a suspicion that something is wrong. Which would just end up being disastrous for all of us."

"I don't like lying to you," Isabel protested.

Max gave her a quick look, frowning. That wasn't entirely true, and they both knew it. Isabel had lied for a long time about her past, about what she had learned from the Congresswoman. In fact, Max hadn't even heard the truth from her, if he remembered correctly. He'd heard it from her dupe, and that was only because she was trying – and succeeding – in manipulating him into going to New York.

He was sorely tempted to bring that up, but he decided against it. Isabel hadn't told anyone yet, and it would be too much of a distraction. Eventually, they would need to know the truth. But right now, they had other things to focus on.

He looked over at Tess. She was staring at him, her expression unreadable. He could tell that she was still upset, and probably would be for a while. She wasn't about to let go of this, of the accusations, of Isabel and Maria's dislike, of the possibility that she had killed someone.

"I don't get why you can't meet yourself," Alex interrupted Max's thoughts. The question was awkward, and ill-phrased, but Max knew exactly what he meant anyway.

He sighed. If he'd realized how difficult this was going to be, he might have had second thoughts about revealing himself to all of them. But given that the world was ending and everyone had died, the fact that the others might be so fixated on not lying to him had simply never crossed his mind. But, of course, he had to accept the fact that they had not lived through the same horrible future that he had, and they therefore could simply could not fathom the fact that sometimes they had to make decisions they didn't like, do things they found distasteful, all in the attempt to save themselves and the ones they loved.

"It's difficult to explain," he said patiently, "and I don't really understand all of it. It has to do with physics. That's what Serena said, anyway, and I trust that she knows what she's talking about. Either way, if I do come into contact with… uh… my past self… it could irrevocably screw up the timeline. It might end up destroying me, and I'd rather not have that happen."

"And why can't we just tell your past self that?" Liz asked softly.

Max raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you really think he would believe you?" It was odd to refer to himself in the third person, but far easier than continually trying to separate the two in his mind without also separating them verbally. And, as far as he was concerned, he _wasn't_ that person anymore, wasn't the past self he had once been.

Too much had changed. _He_ had changed.

Liz looked a little skeptical, as though she did not buy his argument, and he turned to Isabel and Michael, "Come on. Neither of you believed me at first either. You needed proof. Well, _he's_ going to need proof also, and how are we going to give it to him?"

"He'll believe us if we tell him," Isabel persisted stubbornly.

Max nearly laughed. Instead, he countered, "Or he will think that I am a shape-shifter, and have somehow managed to trick you all. Which one do you think is more likely?" He waited, and no one said anything either for or against his argument, so he added pointedly, "Look, do you really want to take the chance that he'll end up destroying everything?"

"How about this?" Michael suggested, "We don't tell him anything for now. But once we know more, once we've figured out how to save the future, then we fill him in. And in the meantime, we can come up with a way of convincing him that you're really who you say you are."

It was a good plan, better than anything anyone else had thought of, and more importantly, the others were slowly nodding their agreement. Isabel still looked uneasy, and muttered something under her breath about not liking this, but otherwise did not protest.

"Fine," Maria said, "so should Michael be on his way to the Crashdown?"

Michael glowered, still clearly not thrilled about this plan, but grabbed a discarded jacket from one of the tables and walked to the door of his apartment. "Don't burn the place down while I'm gone," he said, a final parting shot over his shoulder before he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

There was a moment of silence that followed that, and then Liz asked the inevitable question, "So, what now?"

"We need to learn more about the different timelines," Isabel said, her gaze turning warily towards Tess. "If Max can pull up some memories, anything that is helpful…" She trailed off for a moment, then finished, "If we could all witnessed the memory, maybe we would find some insight. Two heads are better than one. Or, in this case, six heads are better than one."

"How do we do that?"

"If we're all holding hands," Isabel explained thoughtfully, "I think I could broadcast the flashes into all of our minds. I'm not really sure, but… well, it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

"Why don't we try it first with a memory for your own timeline?" Liz offered. "That way we can see if it works with something reliable, something you don't need to drag out of your subconscious."

Max nodded. It was a good enough plan, and so they slowly came together in a circle, a sense of wonder and unease covering everything. He heard the sound of a nervous chuckle, probably from Maria, as they linked hands, and wondered just how anxious everyone was. He didn't want to show them a bad memory, but he knew that they had to see something that would both convince them of how horrible the future was, and of the fact that Tess could be trusted, that she hadn't always been evil.

Picking the memory, he closed his eyes and focused. He wouldn't let them witness an actual death, but he'd show them the after-effects of one.

And, he mused to himself, at least Michael wasn't there to completely lose it once he witnessed this…

And then he felt Isabel's presence in his mind, touching the memory carefully, cautiously, and broadcasting it for the others to see. It was the oddest sensation, as though his mind was a movie, and he was watching something, rather than remembering it. He could step back and survey the entire scene, get the bigger picture, instead of getting caught up in the thousands of minute details.

_He didn't mean to eavesdrop. Really. He'd only come this way because he was worried about Michael – they were all worried about Michael – and he though he'd seen the hybrid General climbing over the rocks that littered the desert. But instead of Michael, he stumbled across Tess and Liz._

_Liz was crying. He knew that immediately, even before he heard her speak. He didn't need to hear the tears choking her voice to know that she was falling apart. Nor did he need to see the shadows under her eyes to know that she was exhausted, that she hadn't slept well in several days._

"…_all my fault." That was Liz's voice, and it was shaking._

_He was half-hidden by the shadows of the cliffs, and at first had the urge to step forward into the sunlight, to run to his beloved's side and wrap his arms around her, to offer any comfort he could, even though he knew it wouldn't be enough. But Tess had started to answer Liz's comment, and so he stayed hidden, deciding instead to wait and see how everything would play out._

"_No, it wasn't." Tess was sitting on the edge of a rock formation, her feet dangling a few inches above the ground. The sunlight caught her gold curls, reflecting off of them. She was holding a pair of sunglasses in her hands, playing with them idly. Her blue eyes were fixed on Liz._

_Liz was pacing, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The shade of the cliffs fell over her, darkening her already tense and drawn features. She swatted angrily at her hair, the loose brown strands that fell over her eyes as she whipped around to face Tess._

"_Don't! Don't you dare give me platitudes. I don't want…" She broke off and looked away, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. In a softer voice, one filled with almost unbearable pain, she said, "She's dead. She was trying to save me, and now she's dead. I killed her."_

"_She wasn't trying," Tess pointed out casually. "She was succeeding. You're not dead, are you?"_

_Liz's face was splotched with red, from her anger and from her tears. But instead of making her look intimidating, as anger often did, it only made her look scared, weak, upset. She wouldn't look at Tess, but the anguish was still easily visible in every line of her body._

"_And let me guess," she said finally, her voice a mere whisper, "now you're going to tell me I shouldn't bother being remorseful? And Max said I shouldn't waste time on guilt. Alex doesn't think grief will help me, because it isn't what she would have wanted…" She trailed off, shaking her head, then said, "What am I supposed to feel, then?"_

"_Anger," Tess answered without hesitation, and that caused Liz to look at her in surprise. She continued in a tone that brooked no argument, "You want to feel something? Good. Be angry. Be _furious_. They killed your best friend. Maria is dead because of our enemies. Self-recrimination will get you nowhere, so take that anger and focus it on something useful, something productive. Focus it on fighting back, on getting even, on making damn sure that you don't lose anyone else. That's what you should be doing, Liz. That's what you should be feeling."_

The memory faded as quickly as it had come, though it left behind a lingering grief. Max didn't need Isabel poking around in his mind to easily remember the days after Maria's death, to remember the way Liz had slowly fallen apart, how Michael had spiraled into someone none of them recognized anymore. It had taken a long time to get their lives back on track, to start figure out how to move on, move past what had happened.

And Tess' words to Liz might have been the most influential thing anyone said or did in that time period, because it was what had made Liz decide to get up and start fighting back.

And the skins had learned, very quickly, not to ever underestimate her.

He didn't say any of that, though, and instead let his gaze wander over the group. Liz was near tears, and Alex and Isabel both looked upset. Tess, as expected, wore a neutral expression, as though afraid that showing any emotion might somehow be used against her.

Maria looked pale, while as a ghost.

"I die," she said softly, bluntly.

She must have known that, Max reasoned, because he had told all of them that they all die in this future. But, he supposed, there was a difference between knowing something intellectually, and then finally understanding, first hand, what it all meant.

"Yes," he said simply, just as bluntly. "You do."

Maria pushed away from the others and walked to the window of the apartment. It had turned out to be a beautiful day, although all days in New Mexico seemed to beautiful. The sun was a little too bright, the air a little too warm, but there was a cool breeze that rustled the shades.

Max rubbed the back of his head absently, not exactly sure what to do now.

"We won't let that happen," Alex said finally, breaking the awkward silence. "We're going to stop that. It's why Max is here, right? To stop the end of the world. To save us."

"Right," Max said emphatically, nodding.

Maria looked at them. "I know," she answered, in a voice of would-be calm. But there was something just a little off about her gaze, the tiniest clue that Max easily picked up on, and easily interpreted. She was trying to put on a brave face, but inside, she was worried. Maybe even scared.

Maria had always been easier to read than the others. Well, not easier than Liz or Isabel. With Isabel, the sibling connection was so strong that most of the time Max didn't even have to look at her to know what she was feeling. With Liz, the connection was even stronger, and he could tell what she was feeling when they weren't even in the same room.

But the others… Michael and Tess were both so guarded, closed expressions almost always covering whatever emotions flickered behind their eyes. Except, of course, when they were angry, and then all bets were off and their tempers could fly. Alex was just perpetually nice and kind, almost to the point of Max finding him bland. He liked the other man, but still found his ability to stay positive and see the good in everyone downright naïve. And Kyle…

Well, Max didn't really get along with Kyle. They were family, of course, since Kyle had married Tess. And Max would have jumped in front of a bullet or an energy blast for him. As he knew Kyle would have done for any of them. But beyond that, they just didn't connect, for lack of a better word, and that made him harder to read.

That was also part of the reason Max hadn't suggested calling Kyle yet. He knew the others wouldn't think of it, except perhaps Tess and Liz. Kyle wasn't really part of the group yet, his addition to the I-know-an-alien-club being rather recent. And Liz wouldn't think to call him because she was far too busy digesting all of this. He didn't know why Tess had not questioned Kyle's absence yet, although he suspected it was because she didn't want to bring him into the group until she was convinced that the others would stop believing her guilty of treason. She liked Kyle – maybe not romantically yet – but enough that his opinion mattered to her. And she probably didn't want him to even consider the fact that she might be a murderer.

Not that she would ever express that, or any other emotion, without someone being forced to pry it out of her.

Unlike Maria, who wore her emotions openly. Even when she was trying to hide them, it wasn't enough.

He liked that about her.

"Oh!" They all looked over at Liz, and she said flushed, but said, "I'm supposed to be at Whitaker's office."

"Why?" Isabel asked sharply. "She's dead."

"I know. But no one else seems to know that. And we said we wanted to keep going on like everything is normal." Liz gave an uncomfortable shrug and turned from Isabel to Max. "I need to answer her mail. Until the rest of the world figures out that she's dead, we don't want to draw attention to that fact. I've just been telling everyone that she's on vacation like we agreed, although I don't know how long that will last."

"She's right," Max agreed. "We need to keep up appearances. Otherwise, the wrong people will notice." He didn't like the idea of Liz going back to the Congresswoman's office on her own, although he knew perfectly well that the skins wouldn't show up yet. They were still in Copper Summit, if he was remembering correctly, preparing for the Harvest.

But he was worried about her, all the same.

"Maybe we should all go with her?" Maria suggested, obviously coming to the same conclusion that Max had. "Safety in numbers and all that."

"Right," Tess muttered under her breath, "because that won't look suspicious."

Maria looked about to answer, but Max cut in quickly, "Tess is right. Only one of us should go. And it isn't a good idea for me to be out in public."

"Maria or I could go," Alex offered, but Max shook his head with a grimace.

"I was thinking of someone with powers," he said delicately, his words pointed. "Although Liz will be perfectly safe," he added when Maria and Liz both looked a little concerned by that comment. "It's just a precaution. No need to worry."

"Okay, so Isabel goes with Liz," Maria started, but Isabel frowned at that and looked over at Max.

"If we're going to keep looking into Max's memories, you're going to need me here," she protested.

There was a faint silence as Max accepted this reluctantly. She was right, of course, but with Michael gone, and both Isabel and Max needed to look through the memories, that left only Tess, and right now he sincerely doubted anyone liked that plan.

"Oh, absolutely not," Maria interjected swiftly, apparently realizing the same thing that Max had. She looked over at Tess with such obvious distaste that Max drew a deep breath and prepared himself for the backlash. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Isabel and Alex tense as well, and Liz look rather uncomfortable. Everyone was waiting for the response.

But Tess just shrugged. "Whatever. I'm not wild about the idea of spending time with her either."

"It will be fine," Max said. "And I don't really see what other choice we have." To Liz, he asked, "How long do you have to be at the office?"

"Four hours. I'm not working as long today as I usually do."

"Okay, Tess go with Liz for now. As soon as we can, we'll switch you out with Michael," Max said, thinking quickly. "Both of you, keep your eyes open. Nothing's going to happen yet, at least it won't if the timeline hasn't changed drastically in the few hours I've been here. But still… be careful."

Liz slanted a look at Tess and gave a little shrug. "Okay," she agreed readily enough. Tess returned her stare with an annoyed look, but did not protest, and Max took that as a sign of assent.

"Maria, are you working at the Crashdown today?" Max asked.

Maria nodded. "This afternoon," she said, and grimaced. Her eyes were still suspiciously bright, as close as she would get to crying after the revelation of her early death.

"Alex?" Max continued, "do you have anything you're supposed to be doing today?"

"Uh… band rehearsal is pretty soon," Alex answered.

"Okay, so you both need to go to those," Max directed firmly. "Don't break your plans. We don't want to give any indication that anything suspicious is happening. Particularly not now that the skins will be watching."

"Watching?" Isabel asked in a worried tone. "What do you mean?"

"They'll have realized that Whitaker isn't contacting them anymore. They'll know something is wrong." He couldn't remember the exact date at which they determined that she was dead, but he knew it was soon. Even now, they would be getting worried, trying to determine what had happened to her.

The Harvest would be happening soon. They had to stop that, although Max was a little concerned about sending his friends into a dangerous situation that had almost killed them before. But what else could he do? The world was ending, and they all had to take chances, doing something risky, in the hopes that this time they would succeed.

* * *

Max, Isabel, and Maria were the only ones in the apartment, after Liz and Tess had grumbling left for Whitaker's office, and Alex had taken off for his band's practice. Maria, in her typically blunt fashion, did not bother waiting for even a few minutes after the door had closed behind Alex before turning to Max and Isabel and suggesting, "Alright. Shall we get started?"

Max bit back a smile, and extended his hands towards Isabel and Maria. "Alright," he agreed, and caught sight of Isabel's slight bemused expression. With the others gone, the tension in the room had quickly evaporated, and though Max knew that was an issue that would need to be addressed eventually, he didn't see a reason to deal with it now.

He closed his eyes, drew a breath, and allowed Isabel access into his mind, hoping she could pull from the clouded depths a memory of some other timeline.

"_How could you just ignore her?" Maria snapped, pushing Max in the chest with the palm of her hand. "She's Liz! She's your soul mate, and you're going to act like she doesn't even exist?"_

_Max glared at her, his gaze sliding across the crowded room to locate Liz standing at the far end. It was the reception for Kyle and Jenni's first child, and also one of the few times he had seen Liz since the end of high school. She looked the same, stunningly beautiful and just as he had remembered her._

_But… things _weren't_ the same._

"_She's not my soul mate," he said softly, trying to make the words ringing with a certainty he did not feel. "Things change, Maria. We all changed, we grew up."_

"_You love Liz, and she loves you," Maria protested._

_Max rolled his eyes and looked away from her. "If it was that simple, then we wouldn't be in this situation to start with. But it isn't that simple, and it never was. I'm married to Tess, I have a son with Tess, and I am not going to throw that all away for a past dream that won't come true."_

_Then he left Maria, pushing his way through the crowd towards Tess and his son._

The memory started to fade away, but Isabel held into it tightly, refusing to let it dissolve completely. Max could feel Maria's disgust through the link that held them all together, and he knew that she did not like the way he had acted in that conversation. He supposed he couldn't blame her for it, since Liz was her best friend, but Max wasn't the only one at fault. They had all made mistakes, Liz included, and he knew what it was like to not want to let go of the family life he had built for himself, even if it meant giving up on the woman he had loved.

In his mind, he felt Isabel sifting through something, memories probably, looking for something that linked to that memory, another one from the same timeline. It took a moment, and then something appeared, shimmering until it came into focus and played across his closed eyelids.

"_How? How did it happen? How did we not know…?" He was pacing angrily, tears creating tracks down his cheeks. Isabel was sitting on the sofa, her entire body shaking with sobs, Alex resting his hands on her shoulders. Michael stood at the window, looking drawn and tired._

"_I thought we were safe. I thought they didn't know were we where," Alex muttered, looking at Max._

_It was Michael who answered, "Obviously we were wrong. They found us."_

"_No," Max answered coldly, angrily, "they found _Liz_." Tess entered the room then, followed by Kyle. Max turned towards her, questioningly, and asked, "Where's Zan?"_

"_Jenni is watching him," Tess answered. "Don't worry, he doesn't have any idea what's going on. He just knows that Mommy and Daddy are upset about something." She looked over at the others, then asked, "Do we know how they found her?"_

_Michael shook his head. "No." A pause, then, "You think the skins know where we are also?"_

"_Maybe," Max said with a heavy sigh._

"_Look… why don't we just ask her?" Isabel suggested, glancing quickly at Max. "Maybe she… I don't know. But they did find her somehow, and she'd be the one to have the most clues about that, don't you think?"_

"_Liz is already upset enough as it is," Max retorted angrily, shaking his head. "Do you really want to add to it by interrogating her? The police have already done that enough." He paused his pacing long enough to take a breath, to try to calm his rapidly beating heart. But the anger pumping through his veins was strong as he remembered Liz's tear-stained face, the pale skin and dark shadows underneath her eyes._

"_Maria's dead!" Michael snarled, his voice suddenly loud in the quiet of the room. "Maria is dead because she was attempting to save Liz from the skins. Maria's dead because of this. We can't do nothing just because you want to protect Parker."_

_Max opened his mouth to say something, but Tess murmured softly, "He's right, Max. I know Liz is having a hard time. She saw the skins kill Maria, and then she got interrogated by the police when they found her next to Maria's dead body. But the skins are out there, and they are probably now coming for us. And for our son."_

_Max stared at her, a painful tug in his chest. He loved Liz, loved her so completely. He'd never managed to get past that, no matter how hard he had tried, and the idea of putting her through more pain…_

_But his son. His son came first, always. And Tess was right, the boy was in the most danger. A son of Max and Tess was the biggest threat to Khivar, and that meant the skins would stop at nothing to get rid of him._

He felt Maria's horror as she slowly began to realize that she kept dying. And he couldn't help but wonder if that was even possible to prevent. If it had happened in so many timelines, was she just destined to die first? He didn't want to believe it, of course, but…

But no, he told himself firmly as Isabel continued to look for more memories related to this one. He didn't believe in destiny. He didn't believe in fate. Nothing was meant to happen, and the future – and his friends and family – _could_ be saved.

He refused to believe anything else.

But he was also puzzled, and he could feel Isabel and Maria's confusion as well. If he loved Liz so much, why had he married Tess? It was obvious that he never once stopped believing that Liz was his soul mate, but in that case, what could have happened that would have made him turn away from her?

And turn towards Tess?

_They were sitting side-by-side on the bench, Tess with her hand resting on Max's shoulder, trying to offer comfort. She looked unsure, uneasy as to what she was supposed to do now. Max just looked devastated._

"_Do you want to talk about it?" Tess murmured._

_Max shook his head, "No," and continued to stare straight ahead._

"_Do you want me to leave?" she asked._

_Again, Max shook his head, "No." As though the thought of being alone right now would tear him apart. He looked at her then, and she gazed back, truly worried. He wondered if she could see the pain in his face, if it was as obvious to the rest of the world as it was to him that everything had irrevocably changed._

_They were quiet for a couple minutes, then Tess said, "It can't be that bad."_

_He gave a choked laugh. "Yeah," he muttered under his breath. "Yeah, it can." He blinked a couple times, then wiped away the tears that had pooled in his eyes with a brusque movement of his hand. He didn't want to tell her, but the reality was sitting so heavily on his chest, a secret that he had to share because he didn't think he could survive it alone._

_But did he want to tell Tess?_

_Of course, who else could he tell? Michael was too busy doing whatever he was doing with Courtney, and Isabel had been acting strange and secretive ever since the fight with Whitaker. Maria and Alex, of course, wouldn't believe him, and Kyle was out of the question for rather obvious reasons._

_So who was left?_

_Just Tess._

"_Liz and Kyle," he said, forcing the words out of his mouth, struggling to say them aloud, "slept together. I… I saw them…"_

_Tess' grip tightened on his shoulder. "Max, I…" He looked at her, and she faltered, then said, "I'm sorry. I know how much you love her."_

"_Loved," Max corrected, his words far harsher than he truly intended, "past tense."_

He felt Maria yank her hand out of his grasp, and heard her snap, "That's impossible! Liz would never sleep with Kyle. She loves you."

He opened his eyes and glanced at Maria, who looked incensed, and Isabel, who looked bewildered. But it was the figure standing in the doorway who caught his attention as she stared at them with wide eyes and bewildered suspicion.

"Courtney," he muttered, inwardly kicking himself for not even hearing her enter the apartment. How could they have let their guard down that much?

Courtney slammed the door shut behind her and walked further into the room, demanding, "What's going on? What were you all doing and who the hell are you?"


	8. The Seventh Dimension: Positivity

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more until he finally got it right?

* * *

The Seventh Dimension: Positivity

_The road to positivity is strewn with the abandoned vehicles of the faint-hearted._

_- Peter McWilliams_

Maria was on her feet in an instant, her eyes narrowed with anger. Max glanced at her out of the corner of one eye, cautious and worried. He had tried to reassure her that Courtney did not pose any threat to them, or to her relationship with Michael, but it was obvious that the pixie blonde had not fully accepted that.

"I'm Max," he said to Courtney, rising to his feet and catching Maria's arm with one hand. She looked at him, scowling, and he was momentarily side-tracked by the feeling of her warm skin and the vibrant fire in her eyes. She'd been dead a long time, and he'd started to forget what she was like.

He forced himself to drop her arm and look away from her, to face Courtney. He heard Isabel rise to her feet as well, and come to his side.

"You're not…" Courtney started, but he interrupted before she could get any further in her protests.

"I'm from the future."

Courtney froze, mouth hanging open. It was clear that of all the things she had expected him to say, that was not one of them. But she did not look frightened, or even the least bit worried. Instead, the bewilderment in her eyes was quickly replaced with scrutinizing suspicion, and she said slowly, "You know me."

"I do," Max agreed. "And I know what you are. It's good to see you again, Courtney. You've been gone a long time in my future." He said the words casually, surprised at his own nonchalance. He trusted Courtney, given that she had sacrificed herself to keep Nicolas from finding the Granolith, but he did not know her that well. She had died long before they could really get to know each other, and she'd been more Michael's friend, anyway.

Courtney blinked, momentarily stunned. She regrouped quickly, however, and asked skeptically, "How are you here?"

"The Granolith," Max answered.

"So, I hate to breakup the friendly little chit-chat here, but what the hell are you doing?" Maria hissed, glaring at him. "You can't just tell her this sort of thing. She's not… she's not one of us."

Max looked at Maria, and shrugged. "What do you want me to tell her?" he countered pointedly. At this point, she'd seen far too much for them to bluff their way out of the situation. Perhaps total honestly wasn't the best policy, but she hadn't asked any questions yet that he did not feel comfortable answering.

She already knew about the Granolith, after all.

"How about you answer some of our questions?" Maria snapped. "Like why you're breaking into my boyfriend's apartment when he isn't here?"

"He was supposed to be here," Courtney answered with a smirk. "We had… _plans_." Her eyes were glittering with a taunting marvelous clearly meant to upset the short-tempered human, and it was just as clearly working. She was holding her purse in one hand, and she tossed in onto the table in the center of the room and stepped forward, almost daring one of them to attack her.

"Plans?" Maria sputtered. "Why you two-faced…"

"Stop it, both of you," Isabel interjected warily, speaking for the first time since Courtney had entered the apartment. Though the anger in her tone was directed primarily at the rebel skin, she was looking at Maria.

The blonde huffed, but surprisingly lapsed into silence.

Courtney looked away from Maria and gave Max a frown. "Suppose that I don't actually believe you," she said at last, her words cautious but firm.

Max shrugged. "Believe what you want, Courtney. But I am from the future. A future where Khivar is winning."

"Would you excuse us for a minute?" Isabel murmured, and grabbed Max's arm, pulling him away from the other two. Max followed her, a little reluctant, watching as Maria and Courtney continued to glare at each other. He did not particularly want a confrontation with Isabel, nor did he think it was a good idea to leave the rebel skin and the human waitress alone.

But Isabel would not be deterred.

"Why are you telling her all this?" she asked finally, softly, as they hovered in the back of the room by the entrance to the kitchen.

"I told you that she isn't the enemy," Max argued, tearing his gaze away from Courtney and giving Isabel a confused look. His sister looked upset, far more upset than he had expected her to be over something as simple as mentioning a few pointed truths to the skin.

"I know you said that, but…" Isabel stopped, blinked slowly, and lowered her gaze. "Never mind."

"No," Max said quickly, stepping in front of Isabel to block her path as she tried to return to the sofa. "No, don't just leave it like that. Tell me what you are so upset about."

Isabel hesitated, looking torn. Finally, she said, "I thought you didn't like telling people about the future."

Again, Max simply stared at her in bewilderment. At last, he countered, "I thought you wanted me to tell you about the future? I thought you said that it was the only way we could save the world. Isn't that what everyone agreed on? Isn't that why I am showing you all these flashes of other timelines?"

Isabel nodded and licked her lips. "Right. Of course." And she stepped around Max and walked towards Maria.

Max stared at her, trying to put all the pieces together. She seemed… betrayed, and he didn't understand that. What did she have to feel betrayed about?

Then something clicked, and it all made sense. He'd argued against telling her the details, always hesitant, always unsure. When he had come to her window the night before, he had been vague, distant. He'd protested against seeing Michael and Maria, and had been downright terrified about facing Liz. And now Isabel was watching him as he so carelessly spoke with Courtney, and she couldn't understand why he had no problem telling her the truth that in the beginning he had fought so hard to keep from the others.

He wished he could explain it to her. He truly did. But he wasn't sure she would understand, even if he did try to spell out all the details. His objections at telling her all about the future had been mostly due to his desire to protect her from his own memories, from what had happened to them all. And to her. His fears of facing the others were due to the fact that they had all died, one by one torn away from him, until he was the only one left. He'd failed at protecting his family, the people he loved, and it hurt to see them now, so vibrant and alive.

It ended only reminding him, even more, of how pale and lifeless they had looked in death.

Courtney was different. She had died long before they had a chance to be friends, and so he did not carry the same regrets in regards to her. Looking at her did not tear his heart in half, speaking to her did not threaten to shatter his already grief-stricken soul.

Interacting with her was… _easy_.

But how could he explain it to Isabel? She did not know everything about his future, and even he told her every last detail, she would not have lived through it, would not have experienced that hell. So she wouldn't understand – _couldn't_ understand – that the ease of his conversation with Courtney was, in fact, a reflection of how _little_ the skin meant to him, and not a reflection of how _much_.

He said nothing as he joined Isabel on the sofa. She was sitting, as was Courtney, but Maria had chosen to remain standing, her face cold and unwelcoming.

"I still don't get who you are," Maria said bluntly.

Courtney sighed and looked at Max. He inclined his head towards her, a silent gesture for her to explain as much as she wanted. If she left anything out, he'd fill in the gaps. This was not the time for half-truths and lies… at least not about Courtney.

"I'm a skin," Courtney drawled. "You do know what that it, right?"

"Yes," Maria snapped, biting off the end of the world. "And Max here tells me that you're obsessed with my rather ill-mannered boyfriend for _political_ reasons?"

"My faction supports him. We wanted him for king, thought he could prevent the civil war from ever reaching this point." She gave Max a disparaging look, and added, "He was so much stronger than Zan, but far too loyal for his own good. He wouldn't depose his friend and king."

"Oh, so he wouldn't commit treason?" Isabel said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I can see why you wouldn't have liked that."

Courtney narrowed her eyes and said softly, dangerously, "Committing treason to save millions of people from a weak ruler and a ruthless, pointless civil war is hardly unethical. It isn't the same as committing treason because of… oh, I don't know… lust for the enemy."

The pointed comment was lost on Maria who did not know the back-story of Vilandra. But Isabel flinched, and Max frowned, wondering how Courtney had even known that Isabel knew the truth about the past. He would have to ask her about that later, but for now, he settled on just sending an angry glare towards the skin.

"So… you're from the future." Courtney regarded Max for a moment, then said, "And what are you doing here?"

"That's none of your business," Maria hissed, jumping in before Max could answer. "Since you obviously came for Michael and he isn't here, why don't you leave and come back later? Or, better yet, leave and not come back at all."

"And miss out on all this fun?" Courtney drawled, looking for a brief second at Max.

Whatever Max was going to say was cut off by the sudden opening of the door of the apartment, and Michael came stalking into the room. He stopped when he caught sight of Courtney, his eyes going wide, before his gaze jumped instinctively to Maria.

"Your girlfriend came to visit," Maria said, her tone dripping with saccharine sweetness even as her eyes narrowed into hard, thin slits of venom.

"I forgot she was coming," Michael said simply.

Max smiled inwardly, he knew that was as close to an apology as any of them would get at the moment for his failure to warn them about her presence. Then the smile faded as another thought occurred to him, and he asked sharply, "You don't have anyone else coming over, do you? No more forgotten appointments?"

They really could not afford to be discovered by anyone else.

"Of course he doesn't," Maria snipped. "He doesn't have any other friends."

That was a particularly low blow, Max thought to himself, but he also knew that Maria was incredibly frustrated with this entire situation. Courtney's presence was grating on her nerves, grating on all their nerves, and that combined with the recent less-than-pleasant discoveries about their past…

Actually, Max mused thoughtfully, he was a little bit surprised that Maria hadn't just given up on all self-restrain and attacked the blonde skin. It would have been a bad idea, of course, but still… Maria wasn't exactly known for thinking through her words and actions ahead of time.

Michael glared at Maria and said, "How the hell would you know?"

"Okay, can we stop this before I get a headache?" Isabel intervened, rubbing her temples with two fingers of each hand.

"You think you have a headache?" Michael snorted disbelievingly. "Do you want to know what _I_ did for the last God-knows-how-long?" But he stopped abruptly, and did not finish the thought. Instead, his gaze moved back to Courtney, and there was suspicion in his eyes. He didn't trust her yet, but Max knew that was not particularly unusual. This was Michael, he never trusted anyone right away.

"Courtney, you and Michael are going to have to reschedule," Max said softly. "This isn't a good time."

"I'm not leaving," Courtney said firmly, glaring at Max. "I walk in to find someone from the future in town. You really think I'm just going to…"

"You are going to leave," Maria spat, stalking towards Courtney and grabbing her by the wrist, yanking her sharply to her feet.

Courtney spun to face Maria, and Max knew in that split-second what she was about to do. Jumping to his feet, he ordered loudly, "No! Stop it!" and both Courtney and Maria froze in surprise.

He rocked back on his heels and took a breath to steady his nerves.

Courtney yanked her wrist out of Maria's grasp and turned to Max. "When people attack me, I defend myself," she said coolly. "It's an instinct, and you can hardly blame me for that. But you are every bit as much a fool as Zan was if you actually thought I would hurt her."

Of course she hadn't intended on causing Maria any permanent damage. Every logical part of Max knew that. Most likely, all she would have done was use her powers to push Maria away from her, to startle the other girl into letting go of her arm. And she would have been reacting on instinct anyway, given that it was Maria who had started this particular incident by manhandling the skin.

But still… he had seen Maria die too many times, and in that moment when Courtney had turned towards her, eyes almost glowing, his heart had stopped beating. Logic and rational were never strong enough to completely beat out pure emotional panic.

Courtney had already stalked from the apartment, pausing at the door to say pointedly, "But don't think I am just going to forget about this. I am _definitely_ coming back for answers later," and Max felt the bizarre urge to apologize to her. But it faded almost as quickly as it had come, and he pushed thoughts of the Courtney away, focusing his attention on Michael and Maria.

Maria was giving him a wide-eyed look, and Michael was frowning in suspicion, both surprised by his over-reaction. But then Michael's expression darkened as he looked at Maria, and he asked in a dangerous tone, "Did she hurt you?"

"What? No," Maria protested, glancing down at her skin. "I… I felt a burning sensation. Not anything bad. Just… a kind of tingling on my palm. That's all."

Max looked at her hand, noting that the skin was smooth and appeared normal. "You're fine," he said. "She didn't do anything." He felt Isabel's hand on his arm, a gentle pressure reminding him that she was there, offering comfort and support. Maria and Michael both still seemed clueless as to why he had reacted the way he had – and in Michael's case it made sense given that he had not seen the memory of the aftermath of Maria's death, did not know that she died so early on – but Isabel knew.

Sometimes, his sister was annoyingly perceptive.

He looked down at her, and she smiled, but her eyes were filled with concern. He forced a smile in response, wanting to tell her that he was alright, that his momentary panic was gone now and there was no reason to worry. But the words would not come, and he took a seat in silence.

Michael, either completely oblivious to the tension in the room or else deciding to ignore it, said angrily, "Do you _know_ what I just did? I spent forever listening to your pathetically lovesick past self spout poetically about his soul mate and the love of his life and how unfair destiny was and…" He trailed off and started grumbling incoherently under his breath as he dropped into the seat across from Isabel.

"Does he suspect anything?" Max asked with a faint smile. He knew perfectly well how annoying he could be, particularly when he was pining over Liz, but it did not bother him. After all, Michael was quite often unbearable when he was fuming about the latest argument with Maria, so he really had no right to judge.

"Sort of. I don't know," Michael answered with a shrug. "He's knows some thing is going on, but I was able to avoid answering his questions. It is freakishly easy to divert your attention. All I have to do is mention Liz, and then I get to hear an hour long drivel about how her hair is like brown silk and her smile is like moonbeams."

"Hey!" Max protested, smiling, "I have never compared Liz to moonbeams."

"Fine. Then it was that her smile was like stardust," Michael retorted.

And Max laughed.

It was strange, but the sound burst out of him before he could stop it. Isabel was chuckling and Maria just rolled her eyes, but Max actually laughed.

How long had it been since he was able to laugh? How long since something had seemed that funny?

He stopped quickly, and felt something tighten around his chest. It took him a moment to realize that it was regret. He had almost convinced himself that he was alright with his task, with what he had to do. He had almost convinced himself that he could survive without laughter, without easy banter, without this kind of happiness. He had almost convinced himself that saving the world, that knowing he was making a better future for himself and all the people he loved, was enough.

It wasn't.

Now that he had laughed, actually _laughed_, he realized just how much he had missed it.

* * *

Michael and Maria were arguing again. About Courtney. He had stopped listening to them half and hour ago, and was instead staring blankly at the window, wondering when Liz would get back. Given how reluctant he had been to see her in the first place, he was now counting down the seconds to her return.

Maybe Michael was right. Maybe he was pathetically lovesick.

Somehow, the thought didn't really bother him that much.

He missed her. He missed her reassuring presence. He missed her smile. He missed the way she would look at him as though he single-handedly made the world turn.

"What are we going to tell Courtney when she comes back?"

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Isabel's quiet question, and he shrugged. "I don't know. But we have to tell her something. She'll see through our lies. And… she might help. She could be an asset."

"You sound unsure," Isabel remarked.

He sighed. "I don't know Courtney all that well. I know that she was on our side, but… I don't know. She's not the enemy, but I guess I don't really know how much help she will be."

"Then why did you tell her who you were? Why did you tell her about the Ganolith?" Isabel's voice was sharp, tight, and her eyes were questioning. She still did not like that he had revealed so much to Courtney, and obviously she was still smarting from Courtney's comment about Vilandra's betrayal.

"You all wanted me to reveal as much as possible," Max countered.

"Yes, but to _us_," Isabel stressed.

Max sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "If we could do this alone, just the eight of us…" _then there wouldn't have been a reason for me to have come back. We wouldn't have all died. I wouldn't have failed._

He didn't finish the sentence.

"We _can_ do this," Isabel protested. "The eight of us. Together."

Max bit back a choked laugh. "Isabel, you and Maria were ready to kill Tess just a few hours ago, and she was ready to walk out on all of us. We haven't told Kyle what is going on, and no one has even really thought about him. Michael and Maria are still fighting over Courtney, and now you and I are also. If we're going to do this together… we actually have to be together. As a group."

"So we're having problems now," Isabel countered with a shrug. "What does it matter? We've had problems in the past. We can get over them, work through them. It doesn't make us weak."

Max looked down at his hands and sighed. Maybe they would get over the problems, work through the issues. But maybe they wouldn't. Isabel spoke of it easily, with the confidence and optimism of someone who had never seen her friends die, her group fall apart.

He didn't share Isabel's confidence. After all, in his future, they had been strong, united, determined. In his future, he had often doubted that anything could ever get in between them, could ever tear them apart.

Their strength hadn't been enough.

Khivar had still won.

"You have to believe in us," Isabel continued, seeing the skepticism in Max's eyes. "Because right now, you don't have a whole lot of other options."

He sighed again. She was right about that, he didn't have any other options. He had the seven of them, and that had to be enough. There was no other choice.

* * *

Evening came quickly. Isabel and Maria both left, a little reluctantly. Tess did not return from accompanying Liz to the Congresswoman's office, but had instead gone home. Max had spoken to her briefly on the phone, and she had assured him that nothing at all had threatened Liz, that he was paranoid and overprotective and to give it a break already. He thanked her, somewhat sarcastically, and told her to fill in Kyle and Jim. They could meet again the next day and discuss everything then.

Liz called as well, but Michael spoke to her. Max did not know exactly what was said, what words were exchanged between the two. Michael simply informed him that Liz had gone home once he had told her that Isabel and Maria had left, and that was that.

It pained Max to think that she did not want to be near him, did not want to spend time alone with him. He had a sinking suspicion that she was actually afraid of what would happen if she did, and he did not like it. He wanted to go to her, to tell her that she had no reason to fear him, that he loved her…

But would she believe him?

He remembered the anger in Maria's expression when she had protested that Liz would never sleep with Kyle. He remembered all the times that Maria had glared at him when she caught sight of him talking to Tess. Maria, he recalled, had fought for the Liz and him, fought for their relationship. After Liz had walked away… Maria had fought far harder for them than Liz did.

He rubbed his eyes wearily and rested his elbows on the table, chin propped on the palm of one hand. Michael was the only other one left in the apartment, and he was moodily pushing Ramen noodles around in his bowl. The argument with Maria had obviously left him sullen, but Max knew it would not be that long before they managed to get over their differences.

He thought briefly of what Isabel had said, and could not help but wonder. Was she right? Was it only a matter of time before they all came together again? Would that be enough?

And if it was enough, then why had it not worked out for them before? Why had they all died?

He groaned, and dropped his head further forward, almost to the point of resting it on the table.

"Is this about Parker not coming back after her shift at the Congresswoman's office?" Michael asked, pushing Max with the end of his fork. "Because if you're this pathetic in the future also, I want to know now. I want to be prepared so that you don't drive me insane."

Max tilted his head to the side and said, "Maybe I am still this pathetic in the future," he said pointedly, though his tone was light and teasing, "but you should know that you don't get any more creative. The only insult you've managed to come up with is _pathetic_. What's the matter? Can't think of anything else?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "Why bother coming up with a new word when that one works just fine?"

Max sighed, deciding not to argue the point. Instead, he lifted his head and looked over at the door, almost wishing that if he stared at it long enough, Liz would suddenly appear. He knew better, he knew _Liz_ better. She wasn't just going to come running back to him. He'd lived through this once before, and he knew…

But he missed her. God, he missed her so much.

"I just wish I could talk to her," he muttered. "Get her to understand…"

"Oh, for the love of…" Michael trailed off and shoved the noodles away from himself, standing up. "I'm not Isabel or Maria. I'm not a girl. And I am not going to sit here and listen to you go on about how much you love her. I've already done that once today, and it was _more _than enough."

Max pushed his own chair back and rose to his feet. "Fine," he said, feeling a little dejected. "You can sit back down and enjoy your dinner in peace. I won't bug you about this." He didn't really want to talk to Michael about it anyway, but he didn't have anyone else to talk to, not now that they had all left. And he couldn't get Liz off his mind.

Ironically, the one person he really wanted to talk to about this _was_ Liz. But he wanted to talk to _his_ Liz, and she was gone.

The room was silent for a few minutes as Michael continued to eat and Max settled on the sofa. He wondered how Isabel was doing, given that she was now probably facing the younger version of himself. Was she being interrogated? No doubt the younger Max was not particularly patient…

But his thoughts quickly wandered away from Isabel, and he started thinking about Liz again.

He didn't realize he had sighed aloud until Michael said, "Okay, seriously? If you're going to be this melodramatic, I'm not letting you stay here."

"I don't have anywhere else to go," Max countered, twisting on the sofa to look back at Michael. "Would you really kick me out? Force me to spend the night outside?"

Michael did not even hesitate in his reply, "Yes." His grin faded into something more serious, an expression that seemed out of character for him. He sighed and dropped his fork onto the table. "You really need to talk about this?"

Michael was a lot of things, Max reflected. Annoying, occasionally self-centered, reckless, rash, grumpy, sullen, monosyllabic, and quite often completely oblivious to anything relating to the feelings of others… But he was also Max's best friend. And when it really came down to it, when Max desperately needed a friend, Michael had always been there.

Even if it meant talking about his feelings.

"I miss her," Max said simply. But then he frowned, and decided that if he was actually going to talk to Michael about this, he might as well go all the way and list everything that was bothering him. Tentatively, he said, "There's this future…"

"My understanding is that there are a lot of futures," Michael drawled, rolling his eyes.

Max huffed, but opted not to argue the point. He didn't really want to waste time and words on something that was irrelevant. It didn't matter how many futures there were, or how many he remembered. He only cared about the one that had plagued him since his first glimpse of that timeline.

"In one of the futures, I am… different. Colder and more…" He trailed off and groped for the right words to express what he had seen, what he had felt. Who he had been. "Angry. Vicious. I was a leader of some sort… and you were there, too. So was Liz, but she and I… we didn't get along."

"You and Parker didn't get along?" Michael repeated, and Max could hear the disbelief and incredulity in his tone.

And he understood Michael's skepticism. Even in the future where Max had apparently married Tess, he had still been in love with Liz. It had been obvious, so obvious, from the flashes he had seen. And yet, in this other future… in this other future, it seemed as though he could barely stand her presence.

And she certainly didn't seem to like him.

"I have this memory of arguing with her," Max said softly. "She… well, it is long and complicated, and I can't really go into the details, but she had accused me of betraying her by sleeping with Tess, and I had pointed out that she slept with Kyle first… or pretended to sleep with him, anyway."

Michael scratched an eyebrow with two fingers and gaze Max a puzzled look. "Huh?"

Max blinked and let out a frustrated breath. It hadn't happened yet in this timeline, and now it probably never would. He didn't want to explain it to Michael, to rehash that particular event, but unless the hybrid General understood the back-story to this, nothing else would make sense.

"I… well, a different me… went back in time and told Liz that she had to make me… past me… fall out of love with her. Which she did, by pretending to sleep with Kyle. It was apparently going to save the world. Because… if I was in love with Liz, then I would apparently ignore Tess and she would leave and without her, we'd lose to the skins." Not that it made much of a difference in the end, he reflected, because even with her, they had lost to Khivar and his followers.

Michael opened his mouth, looking as though he was about to say something, Then he snapped it shut and walked over to the sofa, dropping into the seat next to Max.

"You're an idiot," he said finally. "I mean, seriously? You want to keep Tess from leaving, and your brilliant plan is to have Liz pretend to sleep with Kyle? Why didn't you just _tell_ Tess that she couldn't leave? That the world would end without her?"

Max shrugged, feeling a little abashed. "I don't… I don't know. It wasn't _me_ who went back, not really. It was some other Max, and I don't have a clue what he was thinking."

"Well, he clearly wasn't thinking all that well," Michael remarked. There was a pause, then he said, "So that's why you didn't want Tess to leave before. After Isabel and Maria attacked her. You were worried that she'd leave Roswell. Leave for good."

Max nodded gloomily. He hadn't exactly known the precise reason for his fears at the time, but he had still felt them strongly. Now, with more time to reflect and piece together his broken memories, he had started to form a vague outline of what had frightened him so much.

And he understood now why Tess couldn't leave.

"Okay…" Michael crossed his arms and said, "So you – sorry, some other version of you – who is apparently even more or a moron than this current version of you… _that_ you went back in time and convinced Liz to pretend to sleep with Kyle so that you would fall for Tess?"

Again, Max nodded, and didn't even bother to be offended by Michael's insults. It was Michael, after all. Honestly, Max would have been surprised if Michael _hadn't_ mocked him.

"And… that was the source of your argument with Liz? Which one screwed over the other first?" Michael summed up with a questioning look.

"Yeah," Max replied. "But it was more than that. She… she told me that she never wanted me to be with anyone besides her, and I… I felt _annoyed_." He slanted a look at Michael. "I love her. That comment should have made me happy. But it didn't."

"It was a different future, and different version of you and Parker," Michael pointed out reasonably. "Things change. People change."

Max looked down at his hands, clenching his fingers into fists for a moment, then releasing them with a tired sigh. "I get it," he said sourly, almost bitterly.

"Get what?" Michael prompted.

"I get what it would be like to be mad at her," Max answered. "I get _why_ I… the other me… was mad at her." He'd almost dreaded saying the words aloud, as if vocalizing his fears would somehow make them more likely to come true. He knew better than that, of course, but still… hearing his own voice utter the unpleasant truths he didn't really want to face only served as another emphasis of the fact that he _had_ to face them.

"So?" Michael asked, leaning back on the sofa. Max stared at him, noting the way his eyebrows came together in true bewilderment.

Michael probably wasn't the best person to talk to about this, because he was always arguing with Maria. In fact, their entire relationship often seemed to be built around quarrelling with each other, and that would not change in the future. In _any_ future. Max had seen enough glimpses of other timelines to know that, to know that Michael and Maria never really changed.

But for Max, it was different. In his own timeline, he and Liz rarely fought. In fact, there complete contentedness with each other often earned them the mocking, taunting rebuke of the others. Until now, he had never once even entertained the idea of blaming Liz for anything that had happened in those few short months after their lives had been turned upside-down with the revelation of their past identities.

And yet… and yet, she _had_ walked away from him. _I found out I was a king, an entire planet was relying on me to save them from civil war and she just… left. She didn't even stick around that summer to see if maybe I needed a friend._

He didn't realize he had said the words out loud until Michael answered, "She thought she was doing what was right for both of you."

Max started, then nodded slowly, but did not let go of his anger. Instead, he said, "She did what she thought was right, but she didn't talk to me. She made the decision, and I got no say whatsoever. Sometimes… sometimes it seems more like she was doing what was right for _her _and not us."

Then he groaned and buried his head in his hands. He didn't think this way, _ever_. He didn't hold a grudge against Liz, didn't continually dwell on what had happened. But now the thoughts had lodged themselves inside his mind, and he could not escape it.

"Shouldn't that have been something you talked to Liz about?" Michael asked dryly.

"But I was never upset about it," Max snapped, frustrated. He hadn't meant to sound so aggravated, and for a moment considered apologizing. Be he opted against it, deciding there was really no point. Michael wouldn't take offense at his tone, anyway.

"Well, you're obviously upset about it now," Michael countered.

Max nodded glumly. "Yeah. I know."

Michael considered this thoughtfully, then said, "So you're reacting emotionally to something you saw but did not actually experience." He shrugged. "I guess that isn't really much of a surprise. You had a flash, Maxwell, so you're bound to have some emotional side effects of it."

"I don't like it," Max muttered in reply, knowing full well that he sounded like a petulant toddler. "I don't want to end up angry with her." He glanced at Michael, and noticed that the hybrid General was giving him an oddly scrutinizing look. "What?" he demanded.

"What are you actually afraid of?" Michael questioned shrewdly, with a sense of perception far beyond what Max had expected from him. "That you'll turn into someone who holds this grudge against Liz forever, or that you'll turn into that person you saw from the other timeline? The one who was cold and vicious and… different."

Max had never before appreciated quite how insightful his gruff, ill-mannered, monosyllabic best friend could be. He had been wrestling with his emotions for the better part of several hours, trying to understand them. His blasé attitude towards Courtney, his simmering anger at Liz, who strong protection of Tess…

And it wasn't until Michael said the words that he finally figured out what was scaring him so much. He had told himself, over and over, that no matter how many times he witnessed some other future, he would never become the other versions of himself that he saw. And he'd believed it, truly believed that he could keep himself separate from all the flashes, from all the jumbled, confusing emotions.

And yet… never in a million years would he have ever imagined that it would be possible for him to dislike Liz. But he felt that dislike, and he understood it and…

And what if he was wrong? What if there was nothing at all stopping him from becoming someone else, a person who could so carelessly hurt another human being, nearly torturing them because of his own grief and loss? What if there was nothing keeping him from becoming _that_ Max?

"Do you… do you feel anything out of the ordinary when you think about the rest of us?"

Max considered the question carefully. "With Alex, I feel a lot of… regret. Tess I feel hatred, betrayal. Isabel I feel… fear. For her, and sometimes of her."

"What about Maria and I?"

But Max could only shake his head and shrug in response to that question. "I guess… not a lot is different. Maybe you guys just always stay the same. But I don't know… I don't feel anything different when I think of you. Either of you."

"That seems odd," Michael remarked casually, though underneath the deceptive calm of his voice, Max could hear a thin layer of suspicion. Michael obviously thought that he was being lied to, as though somehow the hybrid King was attempting to protect him.

But it was the truth. The honest truth. "I don't know, Michael," he said with a simple lift of the eyebrow. "Do you think you would be the type to change that much?"

"Well… Maria probably would…" Michael said gruffly. "She's always coming up with some new ridiculous passion. One day she likes singing, and the next day she likes dancing, and then she decides she wants to play guitar, and I'm actually supposed to _remember_ everything?"

Max laughed. Maria did frequently change her hobbies and her likes and dislikes, and often with the same air of casual discard that Isabel used when she got rid of a pair of shoes that no longer complemented the other things in her wardrobe.

He loved his sister, he really did, but she could also drive him insane.

"Maybe Maria never had the chance," Max mused finally, and realized, too late, that he had said the wrong thing.

Michael's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he growled, "What?"

And there was no taking back what had been said, no way to smooth it all over and pretend that the words had meant something else. In the back of Max's mind, he knew that this was going to come out eventually, particularly given that Maria and Isabel had both seen the truth. But he had meant to break the news cautiously, carefully. Gently.

Michael was waiting, and he could not delay the answer. With a heavy sigh, Max said, "Maria was one of the first."

He didn't say the words _to die_, and wouldn't say them. Somehow, he knew if they were uttered in the stillness of the room, Michael would unravel.

"In which timeline?" Michael snarled, his anger bursting into his eyes.

Max knew the anger wasn't directed at him, but it unnerved him all the same. Had he been like that, all the times that Liz died? When Khivar had stolen Isabel away, had his fury transformed his features into something unrecognizable?

He didn't answer the question, but Michael would not give up.

"In which timeline?" he said again, fierce and furious. "In which timeline was she one of the first…" a catch of breath, a slight stammer, "to die?"

And there it was. The truth, out in the open. The words uttered.

And Max had only one answer to give, an answer that would not ease Michael's pain, would not dampen his rage, would not give him hope.

"Which timeline, Max? Which one?"

"All of them," he whispered, lifting apologetic eyes to Michael's stormy gaze.


	9. The Eighth Dimension: Conflict

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Just one thing I wanted to clarify – A couple people have asked me about Max's comment that Maria is one of the first to die in every timeline. Max didn't say that she was _the_ first to die, but just _one_ of the first. In several timelines Alex dies first. In one timeline, Tess dies first. In a couple timelines, Diane Evans dies first. But Maria is always one of the first to die (usually the second). And she always dies before Michael, Isabel, Max, and Liz.

* * *

The Eighth Dimension: Conflict

_The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value._

_-Thomas Paine_

A lamp exploded.

Max didn't even flinch, because he had known all along that something like this would happen. He glanced at Michael, worry clouding his eyes, and watched as his temperamental best friend began to pace. He could almost feel the tension in the air, like static electricity, a charge that shocked anything it touched.

"We all die," he murmured.

It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to say, but it was the truth. It wasn't just Maria who met an unwelcome fate, though she did meet hers more quickly than the others. They all died, one by one, defeated by the skins.

Michael didn't react to the statement. He stopped his pacing and stared at Max, expression blank and uncomprehending. In a sudden rush of anger, he slammed a fist against the nearby wall, eyes flashing dangerously.

"She always dies first?"

Max licked his dry lips and shook his head. "No, not always _first_. But she… she's always _one_ of the first." He closed his eyes, remembering Maria's pale, wide-eyed expression as she died, remembering the woman from his own timeline who had sacrificed everything to save the people she had loved.

"Tell me," Michael said, his tone firm and unyielding, his words a sharp order.

Max didn't want to, really didn't want to. Not only would it be painful for himself to remember all those deaths, but it would also do no good for Michael. It would make him angrier, and how would that help?

But when he tried to venture this opinion, Michael snarled, "Tell me. Tell me what happens to her."

Max lowered his gaze. There was no going back from this, not now. Michael wanted to know, and once he uttered the words… once he told Michael all the details, some invisible line would be crossed. Michael would be irrevocably changed, and Max wasn't sure he could do that to his friend.

In one last attempt to steer the conversation away from such treacherous territory, he said, "I might not remember all of the details of every timeline, Michael. Things are still very… jumbled… in my mind. I don't know everything."

But Michael clearly wasn't fooled. "Stop trying to protect me," he snapped, sinking onto the chair across from Max. "Stop trying to keep me from the truth. I don't care how painful it is. I _have_ to know."

Max sighed and nodded slowly. In every timeline, every flash that he had ever seen, Michael was with Maria. The others might occasionally shift, ending up with someone different, someone unexpected. But Michael and Maria had always ended up together –until her death had permanently torn them apart,

He didn't like it. He was happy for both of them, he really was. But he didn't like the fact that Michael always ended up with the woman he loved, and he himself didn't. It was jealously, and perhaps it was petty and selfish, but the thought of Liz walking away from him, as she had done in at least two of them timelines, left him frustrated.

What made Michael and Maria so much stronger than everyone else? Or was it just some weird twist of fate, a destiny that always kept them together, and yet also always brought about a death that ripped them apart?

"It was my mother who died first in my timeline," Max said finally, softly. "But then Maria. It was years later. We were happy for a while, and safe. We'd fought the skins… I fought them, after they killed my mother, but… it wasn't… it wasn't like we were constantly at war. Until they came again. And Maria…"

"What happened?"

"We were dealing with the skins and the FBI, and it was just too much. She was killed… protecting Liz." He looked quickly at Michael, taking in the darkness he saw in his friend's features. It sent shivers down his spine, and reminded him why he would never want Michael as an enemy.

"Did it always happen like that?"

"_What was she doing out there?" Max asked, turning sharply towards the others. They cowered away from him, away from his rage, away from the grief that shone so starkly in his eyes._

"_I don't know, sir," the bravest of the soldiers answered. "When we realized it was her, we went after her. Tried to get to her in time, but…" He trailed off and did not finish, instead just standing there as though awaiting some pronouncement of his fate._

"_You didn't reach her in time," came a hollow voice from behind Max, and Michael stepped into the room._

"_No, sir. We didn't." There was no point denying it, the truth was plainly before them, as obvious and unavoidable as the dead body that had only hours ago but a walking, talking, vibrant young woman._

"_And you have no idea why she left the compound?" Michael ground out._

_The soldiers all shook their heads, and then the door at the far end of the room opened and Max turned to watch another person enter. His eyes narrowed when he saw who it was, and then he ordered sharply, "Soldiers. Leave." And they hurried away without question, leaving the furious Max, the grief-stricken Michael, and the unemotional stranger alone in the room._

"_Well?" Michael prompted the moment they were alone._

_The stranger turned cool eyes towards Michael and said delicately, "There are rumors." His dislike for the hybrid King and General was obvious, but he answered the question readily enough, as though perhaps he was afraid of them as well. "Before she left, Ms. DeLuca mentioned something about a rebel group targeting anyone with a connection to you. It seemed the group was active. It seemed that they were after someone."_

_From his pocket, he withdrew a small picture and handed it to Max. The hybrid took it wordlessly, and felt his heart momentarily stop beating as he recognized the brown hair and brown eyes, the tan skin, the oval face…_

_They'd all stopped looking for Liz, all except Maria. Isabel was the first to give up, and then Kyle. Michael followed soon after, having held out that long only because of Maria. Even Max had eventually given up on his one-time soul mate, bitter about the way things had ended, bitter that she had left him behind. Only Maria had kept looking for her, kept trying to find her former best friend even as the rest of the world crumbled to pieces around them._

_And now it looked as though she had._

"_Maria left because she thought the rebels had found Parker," Michael said tonelessly. "She was trying to protect her…" He shook his head, as though attempting to clear his thoughts, then asked, "Kal? Did she find Parker?"_

_The shape-shifter shook his head. "We don't think so. The rebels got to her before she could ever get to Ms. Parker."_

_Liz didn't know._

_Max swallowed and looked over at Michael. _

_Maria was dead because she had been trying to protect Liz, trying to keep her from being murdered by the rebel aliens that wanted her dead, and Liz didn't even know it. They'd lost Maria, lost the one person who had managed to keep them together, keep them sane, all because she was so desperately trying to protect someone who had walked out on the group years before._

_And Liz didn't even know._

"Maxwell," Michael hissed, his furious voice pulling Max from the flash.

Max ran a hand through his hair and nodded mutely. He rose to his feet, stepping away from Michael. "She is always trying to save Liz," he said slowly. He didn't look at Michael because he didn't really want to see what was there, what emotions clouded that expression.

But he could practically _feel_ the anger radiating from his best friend, filling the room.

Michael was pacing again.

The heavy thud of his footsteps as they came crashing down on the floor was the only noise to break the uneasy silence that had fallen between them.

Then Michael asked the one question Max had silently, fervently, been hoping would be avoided.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Max shrugged and turned to face Michael. "You didn't need to know," he said unemotionally. Something flickered in the depths of Michael's eyes, and Max continued, "We all die. The order of deaths doesn't really matter. Or the cause. We _all_ die."

"So you decided I didn't need to know?" Michael exploded, words filled with rage. "She's _my_ girlfriend."

"I _know_ that."

"And what the hell gives you the right to decide what you will and won't tell us?" Michael continued, ignoring any and all of Max's attempts to jump into the conversation. "I have more of a right to know about Maria than even you do. Just because you're the oh-so-mighty king doesn't mean…"

Max snapped. He didn't mean to, really he didn't. But Michael's words, mixed with the pain and grief of his own memories of Maria, combined with the troubled flashes he kept seeing, managed to completely sever whatever last bit of self-restraint he had, and before he really knew what he was doing, he was yelling at Michael.

"You _weren't_ there! You don't have a damn clue what it was like, so don't pretend like you're somehow entitled to know everything about the future. You think it is hard _hearing_ about what happened to Maria? I _saw_ it. Just like I saw _everyone_ else die. I lived through it, so don't you dare stand there like you have any idea what I am thinking. This is _my_ life, _my_ past, _my_ memories, and every time any of _you_ start asking questions, _I_ am the one who ends up reliving those memories in my mind."

He sank into the nearest chair, seething with anger, and yet somehow also drained of all energy. Michael had stopped his pacing and was just staring at Max with an unusually shrewd expression on his face. There was still annoyance and dislike reflected in his eyes, but there was something else there as well. Was it pity?

Max rested his head in his hands, fingers gripping his hair.

"We're in this together," Michael said finally, his tone neutral. "It isn't you against the rest of the world. You came to all of us for help, but how can we help you if you don't let us?"

Max fought the urge to point out that Michael was pretty much just being a hypocrite with that comment because when did he _ever_ let anyone else help him? But he said nothing, and kept his head buried in his hands as he listened to Michael walk from the room.

The bedroom door slammed shut and Max was left alone.

* * *

He didn't sleep well.

The sofa wasn't particularly comfortable, but he'd slept on far more uncomfortable things in the past, and he knew he could not blame it completely on anything physical. His mind had been far too active, and by the time the first rays of morning light came in through the window, he was already wide awake and moving around.

Michael was still asleep.

He was tempted to leave the apartment, but it was too risky. He wasn't particularly fond of being cooped up in this relatively small space with his temperamental and moody best friend, but he supposed with some reluctance that he didn't have much of a choice.

Then something slammed into him, an emotion so powerful it left him momentarily stunned and winded. It was gone almost as soon as it had come, and he found himself sitting unsteadily on the edge of the chair, trying to get his bearings on the situation.

"What the hell…?"

He blinked a few times, his vision blurry.

And when he felt the tug of the strange emotion again, he knew what it was. Sprinting towards Michael's bedroom, he crashed through the door in time to see Michael groan and lift his head off the pillow, groggily rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Yo, Maxwell, it's like six-thirty on a Sunday and I…"

"I'm in trouble," Max interrupted, not bothering to let Michael finish his complaint. Michael was still staring him with a mixture of uncomprehending confusion and annoyance, and Max snapped, "Not me! The other me. _Past_ me. _Your_ Max. He's in danger. Something's wrong."

"What are you talking about?" Michael grumbled, shaking his head.

"Me! I'm talking about me. Something's wrong, I can feel it," Max replied desperately, clutching at the doorframe to keep himself standing as another wave of… _something_… rushed over him.

"Are you sure…?"

"_Yes_!"

Fortunately, it didn't take much more than that to get Michael up and out of bed. He reached for the phone, already calling Isabel as he grabbed a sweatshirt from the pile of clothing near the door.

She didn't answer.

Swearing, Michael tossed the phone onto the bed and pushed past Max. in the living room, he paused to grab the keys to his motorcycle, then snapped a terse order at Max, "Stay here. I'll call you from your parents' house."

"I'm going with you," Max protested, following Michael to the door.

The hybrid General lifted one eyebrow almost dangerously and countered, "And what are you going to do when you suddenly come face to face with yourself and wipe out your entire existence? What are you going to do if your parents or one of the neighbors sees you?"

There was no answer Max could give to that, but he truly disliked the idea of staying behind. Nothing like this had happened in his own timeline, not that he could remember. They had stayed out of trouble until the Harvest, so whatever had changed things had to be _his_ fault.

But what could he have done?

Michael was already gone, the door slamming firmly behind him, and Max sank into the sofa with a muttered groan of despair.

Part of it was fear. Fear for himself, for Isabel who hadn't answered the phone, for Michael who was rushing headlong into a danger he knew nothing about to protect this time's Max. Part of it was frustration, because he hated feeling helpless. He hated not being able to intervene, not being able to save his friends and family? How was he supposed to save the entire future when he couldn't even protect himself?

And part of it was jealousy, a jealousy lined with bitter resentment, because he was the king. He was supposed to be in charge, he was supposed to be the one taking control of the situation, acting firmly and fiercely and without hesitation. But he wasn't acting like a king right now. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't.

And that did _not_ make him happy.

_"What do you mean? How badly is Liz hurt? What did the skins do to her?" Max demanded, glancing over at Maria, eyes wide, voice raw with fear._

_"I... I don't know," Maria stammered, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "She was seizing, and the doctor said her brain had been fried."_

_Michael wrapped an arm around her tightly and looked over at Tess. "Do you know what the skins did?"_

_Tess shrank away from them, something akin to dread flashing in her blue eyes. "Nasedo said once that any time you play with someone's mind, you can destroy it." A pause, and memories of Alex hung in the air. "Maybe it was a brutal mind-rape? Or maybe they were just trying to hurt her."_

_"Can it be fixed?" Maria demanded harshly._

_"I don't know," Tess answered, voice shaking. "Max might be able to heal her. And Isabel could probably help through her dream-walking." She pulled her arms across her chest, more as a defensive stance than a defiant one, and added, "I'd offer, but if her brain has been fried, then anything I do would probably end up killing her. She's too weak right now. Max and Isabel are your best bets."_

_"We have to get her out of the hospital," Max said thoughtfully._

_"That could be tricky," Michael replied as he started to pace. "They're not going to just let her go."_

_"Can someone please tell me what is going on?" Jim interjected, still apparently confused by the situation._

_"What if Tess mind-warped everyone there?" Michael suggested, ignoring Jim._

_"What? No!" Tess said sharply, shaking her head as her voice cut through the tension in the air, echoing slightly. "I... I can't. Won't."_

_"Tess, tell me what happened," Jim said, another interruption into the conversation._

_"Why won't you?" Max asked, Jim completely ignored as he thought instead of Liz, of his wife alone and in pain and probably terrified by everything that had happened. "Why won't you help us? If you mind-warp the hospital staff..."_

_"They could die!" Tess cried. There was a momentary silence, and then she continued with an edge of hysteria in her voice, "Max, I only mind-warped you that time when you first saw me because it was instinct, and I was terrified you might try to take Alex away. It was the first time I'd used that on anyone on Earth. On anyone who wasn't an enemy! Not since... It kills, Max! I can't just... The medical staff are innocent, and you're asking me to..."_

_"You've mind-warped before," Isabel said. "You've mind-warped, and it didn't kill people. Alex only died because you did it for such a long time, and so ruthlessly. Because you weren't careful when... because the skins didn't _let_ you be careful when you were mind-warping Alex to decode the book. This is different."_

_Tess continued to shake her head, and Max felt his frustration grow. He knew he should be sympathetic towards her, but how could he when Liz was hurt and she was refusing to help? Her own fears, her terror at what she might do, could end up bringing about disaster for Liz… and he couldn't let that happen. He just couldn't._

_"The police in Boston want to talk to me, Max," Isabel said quietly, a slight change of topic. "About Jesse's death. And everyone wants to know when the funeral is. It looks suspicious that I haven't gone back yet."_

_"We can't let you go back by yourself," Max argued fiercely, guilt twisting sharply in his stomach as tears pooled in Isabel's eyes. He knew she was grieving for Jesse – they all were, though Isabel more than the others – but he would not lose her. "Khivar will come after you."_

_"But Jesse..." And she broke into sobs._

_Michael crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Isabel's shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. To Tess, he said sharply, "We already lost two people we cared about. Are you going to just stand by while we lose another?"_

_In the quiet that lingered after Michael's question, Max thought of Alex and Jesse and ran a hand through his hair, wishing he could somehow ease his sister's pain, make the burden of her loss less agonizing for her._

_"Does Kyle know? Does he know Tess is innocent? Have you even thought about him?" Jim spat, again jumping into the conversation. "And how do you know she's innocent? What do the skins have to do with this? What is going on?"_

_"Liz is dying, and Jesse has already been murdered! Don't you think we're a little busy at the moment?" Maria snapped in response. "We can't waste time talking to Kyle when he's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't care about us anymore!"_

_"Everybody, be quiet!" Max said, raising his voice, and the others lapsed into immediate silence. He understood why Jim felt hurt, betrayed, but he did not have time to waste on this right now. The others were falling apart. Isabel was clearly torn between her need to stay safe and help her family and her desire to do right by Jesse, to properly grieve for his death. Maria was distraught over Liz, over whatever it was the skins had done that had hurt her so badly, a feeling Max knew all too well. Jim was bewildered, Michael angry, and Tess terrified. But it didn't matter, none of it did. Because they were in this war together, and they had to start acting like it._

_Or else Khivar would win._

_He took a deep breath, then began speaking, issuing what were clearly orders._

The image faded and he was once again in Michael's apartment. He didn't have to see the rest of that timeline to have some idea of what had happened. He could feel it, in his chest, the knowledge that they had rescued Liz and healed her, saved her from the fate their enemies had wanted…

And that Maria had died in the process, killed as she protected her best friend.

He got up and walked to the window, almost ready to slam his hand through the fragile glass. He was a king! He was not supposed to stay hidden. He should be out there, fighting, protecting the people he loved. He should be doing something. _Anything_.

He'd been a king in that flash. He'd acted like one, too, intervening before the group fell apart, before the situation pulled them in directions they did not want to go. He'd had the strength and authority to force everyone to see past the moment and focus on the big picture, on the necessity of defeating Khivar.

So what was he doing here, sitting alone in Michael's apartment, waiting for the others to save him?

The door behind him opened, and he spun around instantly, expecting Michael.

It was Courtney.

She stepped into the room, her expression hard as steel and just as cold, and shut the door behind her. "Alright," she said softly, her tone dangerous, "since our previous conversation was interrupted, let's try this one more time. Who are you?"

Max gaped. "I… what? What are you…?"

She walked further into the room, and that was when he saw the dots of energy flickering around her fingers, a sign that she was ready and willing to attack him if he didn't start talking.

"Did you really think I would fall for whatever story Nicolas thought would be a good cover?" Courtney demanded. "I'm not that stupid."

"But you… you… You went along with it," Max stammered. "You said… I thought you… believed me."

Courtney rolled her pale eyes. "Did you?" she practically sneered. "Of course I played along with what you were saying. I've been a spy long enough to know how the game is played, and I wasn't going to tell you then that I knew you were lying. I don't reveal my hand until I am sure I have the advantage. Now… who are you?"

"I'm Max Evans," Max protested. "I didn't lie to you. I really am from the future."

Courtney pointed her fingers at him, energy dancing around her skin. He lifted his own hand in response, just barely managing to conjure a flickering energy shield before the burst of energy left her palm. Her attack was absorbed by the shield, but this didn't seem to stop her. She kept moving forward, and Max continued to back away, keeping the force-field between him.

Had he been a fool to trust her? He inwardly cursed himself for being so flippant around her, for telling her things that she didn't actually need to know. It had been easy to talk to her, and he'd somehow assumed that _easy_ was equivalent to _right _and_ safe_. But it wasn't, and he should have known better.

She wasn't like he remembered. She was colder, harder, or perhaps she had always been like this and he simply hadn't know. Because he didn't know her, not really, he reminded himself. Even Michael hadn't known her all that well, and they'd been friends. Sort of.

He didn't want to attack her. He was convinced that she wasn't evil, that this was just some sort of misunderstanding. If he could just get her to listen to him…

"How stupid do you think I am?" Courtney snapped. "Who came up with this pathetic plan? Khivar? Nicolas?"

"I'm not a shape-shifter!"

Courtney sent another flood of energy towards the force-field, ignoring Max's declarations of innocence. "I have to give you some credit though, you did manage to fool the others. Isabel, Tess, even Michael, and we both know he doesn't trust easily."

She said the last words with a slight smirk, and Max felt his anger quicken even as he struggled to keep the shield between them, to protect himself from her. "You don't know a thing about him," he hissed. "Not if you actually think a shape-shifter could fool him."

"I know enough," Courtney answered softly. "And I know enough about Khivar and Nicolas. I've spent too much time searching for Rath. Too much time trying to find a way to end this civil war. I won't let you ruin it for me."

There was a vicious glint in her eyes, and Max realized with a start that she wasn't going to listen to reason. Not yet, and he was alone now. He didn't have the advantage, and he couldn't afford to just stand there and hope that she would back off. He didn't like the idea of hurting her, but what other choice did he have?

"You won't win. I promise you that," Courtney snapped.

Something shifted in his vision, the world fading before his eyes, and the memory of some other timeline came into sharp and clear focus.

"_They won't win," Courtney said staunchly. "I promise you that."_

"_They've already gotten Tess," Max said miserably, shaking his head and looking away from her, as though he could not quite bear to meet her eyes. "She's dead. We don't have… we don't have the Four Square anymore."_

"_That is a loss," Courtney agreed. "But I'm not giving up. We just need to…"_

The vision burst into a thousand different colors and hues as pain erupted in Max's shoulder. He blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust to the dim light of Michael's apartment, trying to see. Too late, he realized that the flash had caused him to lose concentration and the shield that was protecting him from Courtney's wrath had flickered and died, leaving him undefended.

She must have taken advantage of that. He hadn't seen the attack, but he felt the pain spreading outwards, down his right arm towards his fingers. Darkness encroached on the edge of his vision, and he was dimly aware of Courtney walking towards him, her expression victorious.

He sank to his knees, lifting one hand in a feeble attempt to hold her off, but the pain was too great. He couldn't think, could barely breathe…

The last thing he saw was Courtney's triumphant smirk, and then everything went black.


	10. The Ninth Dimension: Chaos

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Don't worry if this chapter is confusing. See the title? Chaos? It's not supposed to make a whole lot of sense. Not yet, anyway. But it is a very important chapter. It has the clue to saving the world in it...

* * *

The Ninth Dimension: Chaos

_What we call chaos is just patterns we haven't recognized. What we call random is just patterns we can't decipher._

_- Chuck Palahnuik_

"You bastard!"

He barely had time to think over what he was doing, and then his fist seemed almost to be flying through the air of its own accord, and Kyle went stumbling backwards, eyes widening with surprise and shock.

"Evans?"

"Hello, Valenti," Max growled, hands clenched into fists at his side.

Kyle blinked and glanced behind him into the house. Max followed his gaze and saw a little girl hovering in the doorway to the room, watching the entire altercation with an open mouth. She couldn't have been more than five years old, and he felt almost guilty for hitting her father in front of her.

Almost.

"Abby, can you go back into the kitchen and continue eating?" Kyle asked quietly. "Daddy needs to take care of something, but I'll be there in a moment. Alright?"

The girl, Abby, nodded slowly and apprehensively, twirling a few strands of loose hair around her fingers. She cast a look over her shoulders as she walked back into the kitchen, her light eyes clearly showing her bewilderment and fear.

Once she was gone, Kyle said dryly, "Would you like to come in?" He stepped aside and allowed Max to enter the house, those his gaze never wavered from the hybrid king, clearly expecting to be attacked again.

_This isn't right_, Max thought as he entered the house. _What am I doing here? Why am I mad at Kyle?_ It was odd, as though all his actions were out of his control, and yet he was the one going through the motions.

Why?

"How are Michael and Isabel? Alex? Liz?" he heard Kyle ask, but he could barely focus on the words.

Still, he opened his mouth and answered, "Isabel's dead." It was a snarl, cold and furious, and he raised his clenched fist as though to hit his one-time friend again.

Kyle side-stepped the blow that never came and said softly, "I'm so sorry."

Something twisted in Max's chest. Kyle wasn't sorry. Kyle couldn't be sorry, because if he had actually cared about any of them, he wouldn't have…

Wouldn't have _what_?

"But you can't think I had anything to do with that?" Kyle continued with a frown.

Max blinked.

He'd left the others. They'd been in Roswell, and he'd left. He'd written a note and slipped away in the middle of the night, not wanting to tell anyone where he was going, not wanting to worry about them trying to talk him out of this, trying to tell him he shouldn't be here.

Isabel was dead, and Kyle…

"No, Khivar killed her," Max snapped, taking a step forward. "You just sold us out to the FBI."

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "Liz told you." It was not a question.

"So you admit it?" Max demanded.

"Do I admit that I did everything in my power to save my daughter from meeting the same fate as her mother?" Kyle shot back. "Yes, I do admit to that."

_Right. That's it. That's what happened_, Max thought frantically, shoving the pieces of the puzzle into place. The FBI had killed Kyle's wife, and had threatened Kyle's daughter. To keep the girl – Abby – safe, Kyle had…

"You told them about the pod chamber," Max snapped.

"I told them about the one thing they'll never be able to enter, Max. It could have been worse. I could have told them all about you and everything you had done. I could have…"

"You still sold us out," Max interrupted, rage boiling, temper rising, fury smoldering on his features.

"They killed my wife," Kyle hissed. "They threatened my daughter. I did what I had to in order to keep her safe." Max vaguely noticed that Kyle was breathing heavily, that his eyes were bright and filled with pain. What was his wife's name? Jenni? Had Max ever met her? He couldn't remember, and now she was dead, and he should have felt some sorrow for that, but he didn't. Couldn't.

"So that justifies it? Isabel is dead!"

"But not because of me," Kyle retorted angrily. "I didn't lead the skins to her."

Max glared at Kyle, knowing that the human was right. Kyle had nothing to do with Isabel's death. Khivar had been after her for years, and whether or not Kyle had worked with the FBI, Isabel would have died. But he was unwilling to accept that truth, not when Kyle was standing there, an easy scapegoat.

After all, he had still put them in grave danger.

"How do you sleep at night?" Max asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

This wasn't right, he thought to himself. This wasn't… this wasn't his life. Kyle married Tess. Kyle didn't sell them out to the FBI. And Max didn't attack him, didn't get so worked up, so moved by his own rage that he could barely see straight. This _wasn't_ right.

So what hat happened?

Kyle answered coldly, "How do you sleep, Max? How do you live with yourself knowing that you've ruined so many lives? How many people have paid for your mistakes? My father lost his job because of you, Tess and Jennifer lost their lives because of you. And Maria and your mother… they would both still be alive if you hadn't…"

He never got to finish the sentence. Max raised his hand and sent Kyle flying through the air. He crashed heavily into the wall and fell to the ground, momentarily stunned.

It took all of Max's willpower not to kill Kyle at that moment. Instead, he said in a deadly serious voice, "Talk to the FBI again, Kyle, and you'll join your wife." Then he turned and walked from the house, slamming the front door behind him.

He stormed away, practically running down the sidewalk, and why? What was he running from? The argument with Kyle? Isabel's death? All of the people he hadn't been able to save? His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest, beating out a frantic rhythm filled with his own helpless rage at the situation, and all he could think of, all he knew…

…was that this wasn't right.

The scene seemed to twist, to fade, and he was suddenly standing in the middle of a small motel room, facing an irate Michael. He didn't know what had happened or how he had gotten their, and he thought perhaps it was odd that time had worked like this. Time wasn't supposed to move so rapidly, and with such disconnect…

Was it?

"You just left, Maxwell," Michael snarled.

"I left a note," Max replied carelessly. He was exhausted, drained of all energy. The fight had left him, though his knuckles still throbbed from when he had hit Kyle. And when he glanced down at his hand, he felt a slight, momentary desire to do it again.

"Do you have any idea how worried we were?" Liz asked, her tone encompassing anger, frustration, and relief. "How could you do this?"

Max turned a frosty glare towards his wife. "How could you wait so long to tell me what you knew about Kyle?" he demanded in reply.

"Because I was trying to keep you from doing something stupid!" Liz shot back, flushed.

"Nice job," Michael cut in sarcastically.

"Guys, arguing isn't going to help us," Alex spoke up softly, and Max shot him a look. Alex was the voice of reason, the calm and logical one who was forever reminding them that they were a family. His face had crumpled over the past few days, Isabel's death hit him hard. And Max saw a note of despair in his eyes. But he was still the same underneath the grief, still professing the same beliefs. "What matters now is that everyone is safe."

"Yeah, no thanks to our fearless leader," Michael snapped. He turned and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him. Max heard his footsteps pounding on the carpeted hall before disappearing into another motel room.

"We were worried, Max," Liz murmured, reaching out and hesitantly placing a hand on Max's arm. He turned and looked at her, his glare melting into a sad smile. Liz was blinking back tears as she whispered whispered, "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

"I know," Max acknowledged her fear with a nod. "I'm sorry, I was just so…" He let the sentence drift off, not knowing what to say.

* * *

Isabel had left.

Hadn't he known all along that she would?

He'd seen it in her eyes as she sat beside him in the van. She would look out at the road, and he knew that she was thinking of running. Of escaping. So many times he had started to say something, and yet…

And yet he didn't.

Couldn't.

He would comfort her at night when the nightmares woke her, when she threatened to wake the entire motel with her screams. They'd all come running into her room, Max and Liz followed closely by Michael and Maria. Kyle usually got their first with Jenni right behind him.

But what comfort could he truly offer when they all knew that he couldn't protect her from the dreams?

Most of the time, when her eyes first snapped open and she managed to throw off the metaphorical chains of her dreams, she would ask for Jesse. An instinct, trying hard to hold onto the one person that would not come running into the room anymore. And Max would have to remind her, as gently as he could, that Jesse didn't live with them. Jesse was in Boston.

She was alone.

Sometimes she cried out for Alex, and that was even harder. At least Jesse was alive. At least she was the one who had told Jesse to stay away from her, to stay somewhere safe. A place where he could be happy. At least she could derive some comfort from that.

But Alex…?

Alex was gone, and now Isabel had left as well.

Oh, she was still there. Physically. She still looked the same, though her eyes were perhaps a shade darker and her expression slightly colder. She was still there, but…

But she was Vilandra now.

"Isabel," Max started, reaching out towards her. It was a strange sort of déjà vu, a faint memory of her wedding day. It had been the same then. Khivar had been at her side, and Max and Michael had been trying to rescue her. It hadn't worked, though. In the end, Jesse had been the one to save her.

But Jesse wasn't here.

No. No, this wasn't right. Isabel married Alex. And Khivar didn't turn her into Vilandra. He… he…

_Killed her,_ Max thought. _Khivar killed her. He didn't want her at his side anymore. He used her to get to me. Used her, because he knew how much it would hurt when she died._

This wasn't right. This wasn't real.

And yet, it was real. It was someone's reality. Just not his.

"I told you not to follow me, Max," Isabel said, her voice pure ice. She didn't attack him, but she made no move to join him. She stood away from them, surveying her brother with an unemotional gaze.

"You're my sister! I can't leave you," Max protested, a frenzied panic in his tone. Behind him, he heard Michael utter some other comment, something similar.

"I'm Khivar's wife, not your sister," Isabel answered simply.

Isabel was gone.

She'd left them. The dreams had become too much, and she'd left. Left to find Khivar. Max didn't know why. What did she think would happen? Did she really think that he would stop, or was she simply so terrified, so drained, that she had taken any opportunity to get out?

"I could have protected you," Max whispered.

It was a lie. He couldn't have protected her. He'd proven that all the nights he was forced to stand helplessly by her side as she sobbed out her fears. But still…

She shouldn't have left. She shouldn't have left _him_.

I've made my choice, Max," she said softly. She looked past him towards Michael, and he wished he could say he saw something in her eyes. Some tiny remnant of Isabel. But it wasn't there. She wasn't there, and when she looked back at him and spoke, he heard Vilandra echoed in her words. "And I don't need your protection. Not anymore."

"No. No. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't happening, this _hadn't_ happened. Isabel… Isabel was dead. Not as Vilandra. Not… not this. This scene, this horrific scenario had not happened.

Not that her death was much better.

But still…

He had to think. He had to figure out what had happened. He had to…

"Khivar isn't your family, Isabel," Michael said stoutly. "I don't care what lies he has told you. He isn't your family. We are. Max and I."

His words hung in the silence that stretched between them.

She didn't care.

"I don't want to hurt you," she said finally, turning away from him. "But Khivar might not be so generous. You need to leave, Max. And not come back."

It was Courtney.

But how? What had she done? What had happened…?

He tried to grasp onto the memory of her, tried to keep himself latched onto the reality, his reality, and yet…

* * *

"How could you do this to us?" Isabel asked softly, watery gaze fixed on Tess.

Tess lowered her eyes. "I… I just…" She wasn't able to finish, and Max felt the urge to reach out and shake her. Why wouldn't she talk, why would she just explain everything? How could she have lied to them for so long?

How could she have kept his son away for five years?

"You've been on Earth for five years, Tess," Isabel continued, and Max saw the tears and wanted to hug her, wanted to console her. "You've been free from Khviar for half a decade. Why didn't you come to us and tell us the truth?"

Memories of Alex still lingered in the room, and even now that he had seen the truth, even now that he knew why Alex was dead… he couldn't help but look at Tess and hate her for what she had done to them. They had spent so long thinking of her as a murderer, as a traitor. She wasn't a murderer… but she had still betrayed them.

And yet, the little voice in his mind whispered, hadn't they betrayed her as well?

"You know the truth, Isabel," Tess said, looking over at Max. He met her gaze as she continued, "Max saw what happened in those flashes. He _saw_ me kill Alex."

Her words were blunt, her tone firm. She left nothing open for argument.

But Maria argued anyway, "Why do you keep insisting on that? Why do you keep trying to convince us that you killed him? Are you _proud_ of that?"

Tess looked as though she wouldn't answer, so they all waited. Max needed to hear what she would say, needed to know how she felt about what had happened. He'd seen enough in the flashes when he healed her…

Wait.

This wasn't right.

Courtney. He needed to focus on Courtney.

But Tess was speaking, and he had to listen…

"Because I did kill him." She swallowed nervously. "You talk about it like it somehow makes it all better that I wasn't in control of my body. Do you really think that changes anything? I can still tell you, Maria, exactly what it felt like when Alex's mind suddenly stopped working. I can describe to you the sensation of being connected with his mind the moment it melted into nothing. The sudden stopping of his heart, the fear radiating from him in great waves, the anger and despair I felt every time I entered his mind… He died thinking I did this to him of my own free will. He died hating me. He… he died, and I remember the look on his face when he fell, shock… as though he couldn't quite believe that this had happened…"

"Stop it!" Isabel cried, suddenly, turning away from the group. "Stop it. I don't want to hear any more."

Max clenched his hands into fists.

"You see?" Tess whispered. "You can't even stand to hear about it. I remember it. Every single detail. You think it matters who was controlling me? I still killed Alex, and I still remember exactly what it felt like when he died. It was my fault."

"Tess…"

"I couldn't fight Nicolas, Rath, or Lonnie. I tried, believe me. I didn't want… I didn't want to do what they were saying. But… they made me do it and I…" Her voice broke and she shook her head, unable to continue.

"It would have made a difference to us," Isabel said as Tess lapsed into silence. "It does make a difference, to know that you aren't responsible. Do you know what it did to all of us after you left? Do you know what Max went through, thinking his son was with a murderer, a traitor? Do you know what happened to Jim and Kyle after you left them? Don't you understand… it mattered to us."

And the memories of Courtney slipped away…

* * *

"So that's it?" Alex asked, blue eyes sparkling with fury as he advanced on Max. "You're just going to sit around and do nothing? Isabel's dead!"

Max drew a sharp breath at Alex's anger, but did not flinch. He refused to back down, refused to give the other man the satisfaction of knowing just how much those words, that veiled accusation, had hurt him.

"I know," Max said evenly. "I know she's dead, I…" He shook his head as though to clear his troubled, conflicted, horrified thoughts. He couldn't say it, couldn't but his emotions into words. It was just too hard, and every time he tried to speak his throat grew dry, as though it was lined with cotton. As though Isabel's death had taken away his ability to speak.

"Then why are you acting like it doesn't even matter? Like we shouldn't do something about it?"

The air in the room was stuffy. He could hear footsteps moving on the floor above him. The soft patter of a child, running up and down the hallway. He knew Tess was probably up there as well, keeping an eye on their son.

"What do you want me to say, Alex? How would going after Khivar now, when we are at weakest, still trying to regroup… how would that help? How is that a good idea?"

How many times had they had this argument? How many times would they continue to have it? Sometimes someone else would come to his defense – usually Tess, but occasionally Liz as well – but now it seemed as though he was truly on his own. Tess was busy with their son, and Liz wasn't around.

She hadn't been around in a while. Not since that first attack on her two years ago, the one that had cost Maria her life. The Liz that had been left behind after that was a shell, a shadow of her former self. Whereas Maria's death had turned Michael into a hurricane of furious energy, it had sapped the last of Liz's strength, leaving her weak and fragile.

"Isabel wouldn't have just done nothing if it was you," Alex hissed. Splotches of color appeared on his cheeks, deep red that stood out in angry contrast to the normally pale sheen of his skin. "Is the situation was reversed," he continued, "she would have gone after Khivar. She would have avenged…"

"Then she would have gotten herself killed," Max interrupted, "and that is the last thing I would have wanted." He turned away from Alex, wondering if the movement could somehow convey his utter disdain for the other man. He had liked Alex once, like him enough to be pleased that he was marrying Isabel. But without Isabel…

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He didn't like this Alex. He didn't like the man who had turned out to be a stranger - angry, reckless, and cold as ice.

"I've already lost Maria, Kyle, and Isabel. I won't keep losing people," he said in a hard tone.

"Because you're afraid?" Alex sneered.

"Yes!" Max exploded, whirling around to face Alex. Tawny eyes met blue eyes with a livid gaze as Max continued, "Of course I am afraid! I'd be a fool not to feel that way. Khivar terrifies me and I…"

I don't know how to do this without Isabel.

He didn't say the words, but they hovered on the tip of his tongue, ready to come spilling out. Tears pricked at his eyes, leaving behind a burning sensation.

He needed Isabel. Just like he had needed Liz. But Liz had left, first because she believed that he belonged with Tess, and then again because of Maria's death. And maybe the second leaving with metaphorical, maybe she was still physically here, but it wasn't the same. And he needed them by his side.

All he really had left at this point was Tess and Michael. Michael, who was still grieving for Maria, who continued to grieve for her until the end of time. And Tess, who loved him, but had long since realized that when he looked at her, he thought of Liz. Tess, who was stuck in a less-than-perfect marriage, stuck being second best to the father of her own son.

They were falling apart, and he desperately needed Isabel.

"So you're going to let your fear keep you from doing what is right?" Alex demanded furiously.

"Do you really think this is right? Sending all of us to our deaths? Do you think it is what Isabel would have wanted?" Max countered.

Isabel had sacrificed herself in some misguided attempt to keep them all safe. She'd gone to Khivar, and Max still didn't fully understand why. Did she think she could trick him, get him to let his guard down and then permanently stop him? Or was it that she knew the repeated attacks were because of her, because Khivar was still trying desperately to bring her back, and she thought that the further away she was from all the people she loved, the safer they would be.

Max didn't know why she'd left. He wished he knew, wished he could understand it, wished he had more to remember of those last few moments than the image of her battered, broken body sprawled out on the ground - an image that would be forever etched into his mind.

"I think we're at war," Alex answered, moving away from Max, heading towards the door. "And I think you wish so badly that things were different that you won't face up to the reality that this is our life now." And he stormed from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

It would be several hours later, while he and Tess sat side-by-side at the dinner table, eating in dismal silence, that Michael would come storming into the room to tell them that Alex was gone, that he had decided to go after Khivar by himself.

They never saw him again.

* * *

It was dark.

Sunset had passed, and the sky was inky black, dotted with the light of a thousand tiny white stars. He could see the outline of the compound below him, a mass of thin lines and sharp angles barely illuminated by the pale moon.

He heard Liz pacing behind him, her feet treading softly on the stone roof of the stronghold. He'd ordered the other solders to leave them alone, and they'd withdrawn, somewhat reluctantly. He knew many were curious as to his relationship with Liz, a woman they had never seen before, a human who treated him was familiarity.

"Max?"

He turned to look at her. "Where have you been?" he asked gruffly, his voice hoarse.

Years. He hadn't seen her in _years_.

But her presence had always been there, lingering. The deaths had come, first Maria, then Isabel. Shortly after Kyle had disappeared, probably taken by the FBI. So now it was just him and Michael, just the two of them left in this war, just the two of them trying to lead…

And now Liz was here. Now Liz was back.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Max, but the world has pretty much gone to hell," Liz answered, coming towards him. If she expected a smile, expected to be welcomed back with open arms, she would be sorely disappointed.

He didn't say anything.

"I didn't know you were…" she trailed off, sounding unsure, a little lost as to how to proceed. "I didn't know you were behind all this. I thought…" She chewed her lip nervously.

It was a gesture that reminded Max so much of Isabel that he had to look away.

"This is a military, Max. You're running it like…"

"Like what, Liz?" he asked sharply, eyes narrowed at her. It didn't take much to make him angry these days, but he was usually better able to keep his temper under control. Something about Liz was cutting through his defenses, like it always did, and leaving him feeling vulnerable.

He didn't like it.

He had loved her once. He _still_ loved her, though he tried not to.

"Like a dictatorship," Liz said finally, expelling the accusation into the air between them.

"Well," he answered, lips twisted into an ironic smirk, "I _am_ the king." He moved away from her, and didn't bother to look back. He didn't need to look to know she was following him. He could still sense her presence, eve after all this time. It stayed with him, that familiar feeling, like some sort of magnetic connection.

She was the other half. _His_ other half.

"This isn't you," Liz protested. She grabbed his arm, fingers wrapping tightly around his wrist. But there was no flash, no burst of anything. No sizzle of chemistry.

Just that same ache in his chest, that same hollow feeling that melted through him when he thought of her.

"You don't know what is me and what isn't," he said coldly.

"I know I was never afraid of you before," Liz answered, and he heard the pain and accusation in her voice.

It hurt more than he wanted it to, even after all these years, to hear that she was afraid of him. But things had been different then, and he wasn't the boy she once knew. He'd accepted that truth a long time ago.

Resolutely, he said, "We're fighting a war. I do what I can to stay alive." When he looked at her, she dropped his arm and drew back, disappointment written all over his features. "You have been here in years, Liz, and you have no right to judge me now. Not when you missed so much of our lives."

"Max, look around!" she pleaded, desperation layered in her voice. "Look at yourself. Look at what you've done, what you've become." She stepped back, holding her arms out wide, gesturing to the rest of the compound. "You're running this like a military. People out there are afraid of you. Humans and aliens alike. They don't know what you are, they don't know who you are. You shroud yourself in mystery, in shadows, and force them all to fight a battle they don't even…"

"I didn't choose this," Max hissed, interrupting her. "I didn't choose this life. I didn't choose for Khivar to come after us. But he did come, and look at what he's taken. Look at what we've lost because of him."

"It's chaos out there," Liz whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. "The world has become something I don't recognize… and so have you."

He looked up at the moon. Once, he had believed that he could be with Liz. He had reassured her, over and over, that the differences in their DNA didn't matter. That his destiny with Tess didn't matter. That he loved her, and nothing could keep them apart.

He wished he could go back in time, travel to a point when he actually believed that. When the world was really that simple.

It wasn't simple here.

There was no more black and white. He lived in the shades of gray that filled every moment of his life. He lived in the reality of this war, a reality that had stolen everything from him, including his own sense of morals, of right and wrong. There was only survival here, only existence. Only the desperate desire to stay alive, stay afloat, no matter how cruel or bloody.

And that was the problem. That would be the barrier that forever stretched between himself and Liz now. She could still see the world the way it was before the war, but she was blind to the harsh reality of the world as it existed now. And he could only see the world as it was now, having long since forgotten the way things used to be.

"The Max Evans I knew would not do this," Liz said simply, a final attempt to get him to see her point of view.

But he wouldn't. Couldn't.

He'd lost too much.

"The Liz Parker I knew would never have walked away from her friends and not once bothered to look back."

Hurt reflected in her brown eyes. "I did! After everything… when the attacks first happened in New York, I tried to reach you. But you'd left Roswell, and no one knew where you were. I kept looking for you… but… it was too late, I guess. You were gone."

His gaze was hard as he said without flinching, "You're right Liz. It is too late."

And he turned and walked away from her, leaving her standing on the roof of the compound underneath the night sky, alone.

* * *

"…wake up yet…?"

"Should we… help… for him…"

"Too risky."

"…worried."

"He'll be okay…"

There were several voices, and they floated around him, growing louder and softer and then louder again with every passing second. He couldn't focus on them, couldn't understand the words. They washed over him like waves of gibberish, leaving him with the sensation of being lost. Alone.

Surrounded.

He tried to force his eyes open, but the light was too bright, and he instantly snapped them shut, and automatic move to protect himself. Colors burst behind his closed lids, and a muffled groan escaped his lips.

"Max?"

That voice he recognized, though it took him a long time to place it. After what seemed like forever, though, he was able to conjure up an image of dark brunette hair and gentle brown eyes, and he whispered, "Liz?"

"It's alright… safe now…"

The voice, _Liz's_ voice, rose and fell. He could only half hear what he was saying, and he struggled to listen more closely, to pick apart the murmur of indecipherable syllables. He wanted to open his eyes and look at her, see her. He wanted…

"Yo, Maxwell. You in there?"

Michael's harsh, jarring voice cut into his thoughts and without thinking, he opened his eyes. The bright light hit him again, but this time he struggled through it, refusing to slip back into the cool darkness of his own mind. Shapes moved all around him, and he blinked several times as they slowly swam into focus.

He was lying on the sofa in Michael's apartment. Liz was perched on the edge of the cushions next to him, a worried expression gracing her features. Michael was standing behind the sofa, one arm draped somewhat protectively over Maria's shoulders. On the other side of Michael stood Tess, blue eyes reflecting a mixture of apprehension and cold anger.

"What… what happened?" he asked, licking dry lips and struggling to understand how he had ended up like this. Everything was a blur, too many memories floating around in his mind, and the how's and why's didn't quite seem to add up.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Michael replied, eyebrows drawn together in concern. "I came in and you were unconscious on the floor, bleeding at your right shoulder."

Max twisted his head to the side, and noted with some embarrassment that he was shirtless. His right shoulder was bandaged, but he could see, underneath the top layer of gauze, that blood had already spread out across the inner dressing.

_Courtney, smirking at him… a flash of light… pain…_

"Courtney," Max muttered, pushing himself into a sitting position and wincing slightly at the throbbing ache in his shoulder. His arm felt strangely numb below the elbow, but he could move his fingers, which he supposed was a good sign.

"_Courtney_ did this?" Maria demanded. "I thought you said we could trust her."

"I thought we could," Max answered honestly, ignoring the slight tinge of gloating in Maria's voice. He didn't have the time or energy to deal with her continual jealousy, or Michael's somewhat lousy decision-making.

"Careful," Liz murmured, helping him ease into a sitting position. Her skin was warm against his, and it was then that he realized that he was shivering with cold.

"Courtney wasn't here when you came back?" Max asked, twisting to look at Michael as he leaned back against the sofa.

Michael walked around so that he was facing Max, Maria and Tess following behind him. "No," Michael answered with a firm shake of his head. "It was just you."

"But why would Courtney go to all the trouble of attacking you and then just leave?" Tess asked curiously, taking a seat opposite Max. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her eyes fixed on the hybrid King, only sparing the briefest glance for Liz. There was tension in the air, a tension that was giving Max a headache.

"Did she do something to you?" Liz asked tentatively. Now that Max was fully awake and coherent, she seemed a bit more tentative, as though just realizing how close she was to him. She was drawing back, pulling away from him, and he had to fight back the urge to grab her wrists and not let her leave.

A moment later, she stood up and moved to a different chair.

"_Did_ she do something to you?" Maria questioned, repeating Liz's question.

Max's head was still vibrating with thousands of thoughts, like flies or bees all trying to find a way out of his mind. The pressure was increasing, and he slowly reached up and rubbed his temples, willing the pain away. It didn't work, not completely, and he let out a slow breath of frustration.

"Maxwell!"

His eyes moved automatically towards Michael, who was clearly not thrilled that Liz and Maria's question had been ignored.

"I don't know," Max muttered. "I don't know if she did something. I don't know why she would have… I just… _don't_ know."


	11. The Tenth Dimension: Resonance

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more until he finally got it right?

* * *

The Tenth Dimension: Resonance

_I think whatever resonance I may be able to achieve is in part from the amount of learning that I acquired along the way._

_-Robert Parker_

Max rubbed his head for a moment, still trying to push away the memories, and the tumultuous emotions that came with them, before he turned to Michael and asked anxiously, "How is past me?"

"He's fine," Michael replied. "Isabel is staying with him for right now. We're not really sure what happened…" He trailed off, seemingly unable to figure out what to say next, and it was Maria who cut in with her usual blunt manner.

"There was nothing wrong with him. He wasn't in any danger. Basically, Michael went charging into your house for no reason at all."

Max gaped for a moment, at a complete loss for words. Then he recovered his voice and said firmly, "No, that's not possible. There was something wrong with him. I _felt_ it."

"Maybe you were mistaken," Maria replied.

"_Obviously_, you were mistaken," Michael muttered, emphasizing the first word. "I went bursting into your room, convinced you were going to be dead or something… and you just looked at me like I was crazy." His words were sharp, and he sent a pointed glare at the future version of his best friend.

"You _are_ crazy," Max answered with a faint smirk. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, still trying to figure out everything. His mind was a mess of too many different and occasionally conflicting memories, and the pressure of all these timelines was building, turning a pounding headache into a full-blown migraine.

He groaned.

"Look, whatever it was you thought you felt, it was wrong," Michael fumed. "So I had to stand there, looking like a complete idiot, and make up some sorry excuse about how I had thought past you was in danger but maybe it was all a bad dream." He scoffed and shook his head. "A bad dream. I actually suggested that I was having _nightmares_ just to keep your presence a secret."

"Isabel is still there," Liz said softly, her voice much more soothing than Michael's growl. "She decided to stay, just in case… and also to try to reassure past Max. To make sure he didn't get suspicious…" She trailed off with a little sigh, looking worried. "But it might be too late for that."

Max didn't answer. He knew it was now far too late to try to keep everything a secret from his past self, but he still didn't like the idea of telling the truth. He didn't want to deal with the repercussions of that, because he knew exactly how his past self would react, and it would _not_ be pretty.

He would demand answers, he would not believe anything anyone said, he would want to meet the future version of himself, just to make sure this wasn't some kind of shape-shifter or skin… and that couldn't happen. Serena had been adamant about the dangers, about how disastrous a meeting between the two would be.

And Max didn't really want to cease to exist.

Liz's voice roused him from his thoughts once more, and she asked hesitantly, "How long was it between when Michael left and when Courtney attacked you?"

Max shrugged. "Not that long," he answered, carefully considering the question. "She must have been watching the building. She must have known exactly when Michael left…" He looked over at Liz with a question in his eyes, but she was looking at Tess.

Tess sighed. "I don't know. I mean, it's possible. I could probably due it. If Courtney had the right abilities, she could, too. So it is certainly feasible. I just don't know if she has that power."

"But if she did…" Liz prompted.

Tess nodded. "Then it would make sense."

"Okay, someone want to explain to the rest of us here?" Maria asked, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at the two girls.

"Whatever Courtney's goal was," Liz replied, "she clearly needed Max alone to accomplish it. If she had just been watching the building, she would have had no way to guarantee that Michael would actually ever leave Max."

Max caught on quickly, a frown marring his features as he finished, "But if she used her powers to ensure that I thought the past version of me was in trouble… Michael would go to his rescue, and I would be here by myself." He looked towards Tess. "Is that possible?"

She nodded blue eyes clouded with worry. "It can certainly be done with a mind-warp. Do you know if Courtney has that power?"

Max shook his head slowly. He didn't know enough about Courtney to know exactly what powers she had. He couldn't remember her ever mentioning that she had the ability to mind-warp… but now that he thought about it, he honestly couldn't remember any of her abilities.

He sighed, expelling the breath of air in frustration.

"It would make sense if she did all that," Liz murmured, looking between Max and Michael. "If we assume that Max was right, that he did actually feel something, but also that Michael was correct when he said that our Max wasn't in any danger… a mind-warp _is_ a logical answer."

"But this still doesn't explain why she would have gone to all the trouble of getting Max alone and then not actually kill him," Tess argued.

"We could always ask her," Michael mused, giving Max a shrewd look. Max didn't particularly like the gleam in his friend's eyes, and he certainly didn't like the idea of them all hunting down Courtney and demanding answers from her. Particularly because, at the moment, Maria looked ready to kill, as did Liz. And he had a feeling Tess might be tempted towards violence against the skin as well, given the opportunity.

His throbbing head kept him from feeling that much concern for the luckless skin if they caught up with her, but on the other hand… attacking her might not be particularly conducive towards getting answers, and that was what they really needed.

"Do we even know where to find her?" Liz questioned, looking over at Max.

He met her gaze with a rueful sigh. "Not really. I doubt she'll just be hanging out at the Crashdown as though everything is normal."

"She'll be running for the hills right now, if she knows what's good for her," Maria ground out in a low voice.

"I don't think she was actually trying to hurt me," Max said finally, rising slowly to his feet. Liz and Michael both gave him incredulous looks, and Maria rolled her eyes, but Max continued firmly, "It's like Tess said, why would she go to all the trouble to attack me and then just leave?"

"Maybe she got what she wanted," Liz suggested.

"Which was what, exactly?" Tess questioned, one eyebrow raised.

"Look, we're just going in circles on this one," Michael argued. "And the only way we're going to find out what exactly happened is if we track down Courtney and ask her."

"Which brings us back to the initial issue of not knowing where she is," Tess pointed out logically, sighing.

Max took a few steps across the room, testing his ability to walk. He sighed, wincing a little as the pain continued to throb behind his eyes, and reached out to steady himself against the wall.

"I don't think Max is in any state to be looking for Courtney," Liz murmured softly. He couldn't help but smile a little at the worry and concern in her tone, but then she continued in a harder voice, "But Michael and Tess could go."

"And where would we look?" Tess asked. "Do you really think she's stupid enough to still be here?"

"We won't know unless we look for her," Max answered. He glanced quickly at Liz, then added, "And I'll be fine. I'm not staying behind, not when _I_ am the one she attacked."

* * *

Which was why the five of them found themselves quietly searching through Courtney's abandoned apartment.

"I feel like we're Scully and Mulder or something," Maria remarked to Michael, smirking a little as she let her gaze wander over everything.

Michael snorted and Max rolled his eyes at the comment, but Tess asked in confusion, "Who?"

"From the X-Files," Liz answered automatically. At Tess' blank stare, she elaborated, "You know, the television show?" But the blonde hybrid just shook her head, clearly not picking up on the reference, and turned away.

"Nobody's home," Michael said after a moment.

Max nodded, agreeing with that assessment, and frowned. He hadn't really expected anything else, but he was also fairly certain that Courtney wouldn't completely skip town. At least not yet, anyway.

"Whoa," came Maria's voice, and he turned to look in her direction. She was leaning over a bunch of CD cases, staring through the titles. "Culture Club? Wham?" She wrinkled her nose as she picked up another one, and said aghast, "The Backstreet Boys? God, she really is an alien, this one."

"Come on, let's spread out," Michael declared.

Maria lifted an eyebrow at him. "Spread out? It's an apartment, Michael, not Central Park. I don't think we really need to divide and conquer."

"Besides," Liz murmured, speaking up as she turned her attention to Max, "what are we even looking for?"

"Clues of some sort," Max answered. "I wasn't the one who investigated her in the past," here he shot a look at Michael and noted that Maria was wearing a distasteful expression at that revelation, clearly not happy with her sort-of boyfriend's extracurricular activities, "so I don't know all the details. But she had another hideout, and she might be there now."

"So we need to find an address book or a calendar or something?" Michael suggested, eyebrows knit together.

"Of course," Maria drawled. "Because she's going to write out the location of her top-secret hideout in an address book. And I bet we'll also find sketches of her army and all her plans for world domination."

"Hey, are you just gonna rag on me or are you gonna help?" Michael retorted.

The argument was cut off by Liz's sudden intake of breath, and Max whirled around quickly to make sure she wasn't in any danger. She was standing in the doorway of the room, holding a piece of graying skin between her thumb and her forefinger. Her expression was a mixture of fascination and revulsion.

"What is this?" she asked, glancing at Max.

"That's why we call then skins," Max answered, watching with some amusement as Liz carefully held the skin close to her face for examination. The scientist in her was way too fascinated by this. "She's shedding," Max added, wondering if that would gross her out.

It didn't.

Liz just nodded and continued looking at the skin, but Maria shivered and muttered, "Okay, ew. So gross."

Tess wrinkled her nose as she stared at the skin as well, then announced, "I'm going to take a look through her bedroom. There might be something in there." And she walked out of the living room.

Michael, following Tess' lead, said, "I'll take a look at the kitchen." He, too, left the living room, and a moment later Maria trailed behind, leaving Max and Liz alone.

"So… what… um… what did Courtney… I mean, what happened to you?" Liz asked, coming to Max's side after dropping the piece of skin back to the floor. She was stumbling over the words, as though she couldn't quite figure out what to say, but at least she was actually talking to him. "I know you don't know what she did, exactly, but it was very… I was worried about you, when we found you… on the floor."

Max smiled at the hesitancy in her tone. She was playing with a few strands of hair, a habit that he had seen her do countless times before. She only did it when she was nervous, when she was having trouble articulating herself. He found it endearing.

"I was seeing flashes," he explained. "Only… it felt more like I was trapped in them. Like I was actually reliving it, unable to control what I was saying and doing, but… for some of them, I had this vague sense that it wasn't right. That I wasn't supposed to be there."

Liz was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and concern, and he sighed heavily. He couldn't blame her for not fully understanding what had happened to him – he didn't even know exactly what Courtney had done – but he didn't want to have to recount any more details.

Living through the memories had been hard enough. Retelling them would just be more pointless pain.

"In the future," Liz said quietly, "uh… I mean… _your_ future, the one that you are from… and you and I are… married."

It wasn't a question, but Max answered it anyway. "Yes."

"Did we have a family?"

Max slanted a quick look at her before turning back to his methodical search of the room. "Children? No. We wanted to, but it never seemed like the right time. I think both of us thought that we could put it off, that we wouldn't run out of time. But then the attacks…" He trailed off and didn't finish elaborating.

He knew he didn't have to say anymore, Liz would understand well enough anyway. With the continual attacks from the skins and the FBI, they'd never really had another chance. A pregnant Liz would have been too easy of a target, and a child would have gotten in the way. It would have been far too dangerous to try to raise a son or daughter in the middle of a war…

Tess and Kyle had discovered that.

But it was actually a good point, he thought to himself as his mind wandered over the little that he knew of each timeline. Tess was the only one to consistently have a child. In every single time line except one, she'd had either a son or a daughter. Most of the times the father was Max, and once the father was Kyle. But there was only ever one child in their group, and the mother was always Tess.

Kyle, too, had occasionally had a child, either with Tess or with the other woman who had been his wife… Jennifer? Was that her name? Max could only just barely remember what she looked like, a vague set of flashes from timelines he had not lived through, had not experienced.

But even Kyle did not have a child as frequently as Tess.

"Max?" Liz's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Hm? Yeah?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"Were we… happy? You and I, I mean. In your timeline, were we happy?"

"Yes," Max replied simply, because it was the truth. Because there was really nothing else to say to that question. They had been happy. They had all been happy, before…

The attacks.

"Oh!" Tess' cry of surprise filled the apartment, and Michael and Maria came running out of the kitchen. Max had already moved towards the door of the bedroom, readying his powers in case he needed to attack anyone. He rushed into the room, the other three following behind…

And came to a complete stop.

"What is that?" Liz breathed, sounding horrified.

Tess was standing in front of the open closet door. Max couldn't see her face, but he could easily picture the look of disgust that had to be reflected in her blue eyes. It was the same feeling that churned in the pit of his stomach as he peered into the closet and took stock of what was inside.

There were several pictures of Michael propped up on a small table or scattered on the floor. A pair of his shoes also rested on the table, in between what looked like several scented candles and a voodoo-type doll. One picture of Michael was surrounded by a large silver heart. The floor of the closet was filled with several various items that Max was fairly certain had at one time belonged to his friend, before Courtney had stolen them.

It was a shrine.

"That's the shirt I lost at work," Michael said, shaking his head as he gestured towards a gray shirt that was tacked to the wall. "What the hell is this?"

"It's Graceland…" Maria answered. "And you're Elvis."

"Wow," Michael muttered.

"Wow?" Maria echoed, looking appalled. "Is that all you can say right now? Wow?" She spun to face Max with a glare. "She's been dreaming about Michael. Fantasizing about him. You told us she was only into Michael in a political sense. This…" she pointed towards the shrine, "is a hell of a lot more than political. She's obsessed with him. She's… she's _stalking_ him."

Before Max could answer Maria's angry words, Tess turned to face them and said, "Hey, shut up for a second." She was holding a photograph in her hand, and had a thoughtful expression on her features. "Take a look at the pictures. They were all shot from the apartment across the street from Michael's building."

"So?" Maria snapped, but then the answer seemed to dawn on her and she said, "Oh. That's where she goes to spy on him."

Michael grabbed the picture and studied it for a moment, then nodded. "Guess we know where her secret hideout is."

* * *

Michael and Maria were arguing.

Their ability to argue over anything and everything never really ceased to amaze him, even after all this time, but at least he had learned to tune it out.

Mostly.

"This isn't going to work," Maria grumbled. "She's not just going to stroll up to her hideout while we're sitting here watching her."

"This was _your_ idea," Michael retorted.

"That's not the way I remember it," was Maria's answer.

"Okay, so now it's my fault?" Michael snapped.

"Yes. You know what? Just to make things simpler, from now on you should consider everything to be your fault, okay? Okay."  
Max walked away from the two bickering teenagers and glanced out the window. Across the street he could see Michael's apartment building. Courtney wasn't here yet, and he wasn't entirely sure she'd show up. Maria could have a point about that. Whatever else he could say about Courtney, he knew she wasn't stupid.

"So I take it they don't change?" Tess asked as she came to his side.

He looked at her, and then back at Maria and Michael. "Those two? Never."

She nodded slowly, then looked out the window as well. "Are you sure she should be here? Maria, I mean. It might be better as an alien-only ambush."

Max frowned as he thought about that. Liz had been forced to leave about thirty minutes ago, due to a prior commitment to working a shift at the Crashdown. She'd promised her parents that she would fill in for one of the waitresses who had gotten sick, and bailing on that promise would have caused too many problems.

So now it was only Maria, Michael, Tess and Max himself.

Max honestly wasn't sure if Tess was mentioning this because of some desire to keep the humans out of this as much as possible, because her own dislike of Maria had been seriously exacerbated by their previous argument about her supposed betrayal and Alex's future death, or because she was actually worried about Maria's behavior.

Max decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume it was the third option.

"I'm sure between the three of us, we can keep Maria safe," he said. "Besides… I doubt any of us would be able to stop her from coming along. She's… _stubborn_."

Tess smirked at that description and gave a slow nod. She continued to stare at Michael's apartment, but Max turned to face her fully, to study the tension in her expression.

She shot a quick glance at him, then turned abruptly away. Looking at Michael and Maria, she said in a low undertone, "I hope Courtney shows up soon. At least then they'll stop arguing."

"You know," Max remarked in a would-be casual tone, "you and Maria are actually pretty friendly in the future."

"Oh, you mean all the futures where she doesn't want me dead?" Tess snapped snidely.

Max expelled a slow breath. He wished he could say something to reassure her, but there were no words to take the sting out of everything she had learned since his arrival. And he also knew he couldn't blame Maria for any of her feelings, because in at least some of the futures, Tess _had_ killed Alex and betrayed them all.

It made it harder for him as well. The Tess he remembered most clearly, the one he had lived with in his future, had been smart and funny and caring and, above all else, loyal. But now when he looked at her, he saw faded echoes of all the other Tess', reminders of what she had done to them. He wanted to trust her, wanted to tell the others to trust her as well. The fate of the world could very well depend on it, because he knew they couldn't defeat Khivar without all four aliens.

But knowing what he now knew, seeing what he had seen… how _could_ he trust her?

Blue eyes were staring at him, and he realized that she had expected some kind of answer. But he'd been quiet too long, and she began to walk away from him.

"Tess, wait," he called, reaching out to grab her arm.

_Max sat on the edge of Liz's bed, one hand resting on her shoulder. She was lying on her side, practically crumpled into a ball, and she was sobbing. Maria had died almost three weeks ago, but she couldn't let go of the past, couldn't let go of what had happened. He would occasionally find Liz like this, broken and hurt._

"_Liz?" he murmured, wishing there was something more he could say. But there was nothing that could ease the pain of what had happened, nothing that could bring her best friend back to life._

_She rolled onto her back and looked up at him. "You shouldn't be here," she whispered, her eyes moving towards the door of the bedroom._

_It was his house, his guest bedroom, and telling him he shouldn't be here was ridiculous. But he knew what she meant, what she was afraid of. He should have been afraid of it as well, but somehow…_

"_Tess is probably wondering where you are."_

…_he just couldn't be bothered to think of his wife when Liz looked at him with those tear-filled eyes._

"_Hey, it's okay," Max answered in a low murmur. "She can wait. I'm more worried about you." He pushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes and watched as she drew back from his touch._

"_Maria's dead," Liz said, the words sounding forced and choked. "The police interrogated me… they thought… they thought I killed her, Max!" She pushed herself into a sitting position, pulling her knees into her chest. "Oh, God, who am I kidding? I did kill her. She died protecting me. If I hadn't… if they hadn't been after me, she wouldn't have… she wouldn't be dead, and…" She started crying again, tears spilling out of her eyes._

"_It is not your fault," Max said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a hug. "You did _not_ kill Maria. You can't blame yourself. Blame the skins. They are the ones that did this."_

_She buried her head in his shoulder and said in a muffled tone, "It is still my fault. I'm the one that put Maria in danger. I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have let her die for me." She drew back, and looked up at him. "It should have been me."_

_He wiped away the tears, his thumb gently moving over the skin of her face. He could feel the warmth of her breath and the heat that still existed between them, even after all this time._

"_No," he said emphatically. "It shouldn't have been you. It shouldn't have been either of you. You and Maria… neither of you deserved this." He hesitated a moment, then added, "Maria wouldn't want you to feel like this."_

"_Maybe not," Liz countered, "but Maria's not here, is she?"_

_It had gotten harder, every day, to have Liz living under his roof. He had refused to let her leave in the beginning, worried about her mental and emotional state, worried she might do something stupid in her grief. And after the first few days had passed and she seemed more like her old self, like the Liz he remembered, he still didn't want her to go because he had figured out that she – and not Maria – had been the intended target of the skins' attack. She was in danger, and he wanted to keep her here. He wanted to keep her safe._

_He loved her._

_But every day that she was here, under his roof… everyday, he realized just how much he wished he'd married her. And not Tess._

"_No," he agreed, "Maria's not here. But I'm here, Liz. You're not alone. You don't have to be."_

_Liz sniffed and shook her head. "What do I have? You have Tess, Isabel has Alex, Kyle has Jenni… I don't have anyone. And because of me, Michael doesn't have Maria anymore."_

"_You have me," Max promised, taking both her hands in his. "You'll always have me."_

_And then, before either he or Liz had really realized what was happening, they were kissing. Max thought he might have been the one to initiate the kiss, but Liz quickly responded to it, deepening it. He could practically sense just how needy she was at the moment, how much her heart had been torn apart by the events of the past few weeks, and…_

_She suddenly pushed him away, and he lifted a hand to his lips, the reality of what had happened crashing down on him._

_He'd kissed Liz._

_He'd kissed Liz, in his home. The home he shared with Tess. His wife._

_And the mother of his son._

_He moved away from Liz, rising to his feet, the guilt twisting, churning heavily in his gut. "I'm sorry," he whispered, practically horrified. "I'm so… sorry. I didn't mean to…"_

_Liz wasn't looking at him. Instead, she looked down at the bedspread, her hands running over the fabric. "You should go," she said._

_And this time, he left._

_He didn't look behind him as he walked down the hallway and descended the stairs. He knew he was flushed and probably looked as bewildered as he felt. His breath was shallow, and he could still feel Liz's hands on his skin, the touch of her lips on his…_

_He entered the kitchen, and found Tess standing by the stove. Through the door that lead into the dining room, he could see his son sitting at the table, playing with toy cars that he pushed back and forth across the table cloth._

"_I don't like the fact that Liz is here, but I've been trying to put up with it," Tess said, her voice sounding strange. She turned and looked at Max, "And maybe I am not being as welcoming as I should. Maybe I still… feel threatened by her. But I'm _trying_, Max."_

_He couldn't read the expression in her eyes, but he knew it was nothing good._

_She wrapped her arms around herself. "So if you're going to make-out with that… that… husband-stealing tramp, at least have the decency to close the door."_

"_Don't you dare call Liz that!" Max hissed, angry. "You have no idea what Liz has been through. And you haven't exactly been helping."_

_It was true. The animosity between the two women was still there, even after all this time. And with everything Liz had been through, Max had been hoping that Tess would be a little bit more understanding. But she had been opposed to Liz staying with them, instead wanting the brunette to stay with Michael, or with Alex and Isabel. And she had never given it a rest, never stopped arguing with him. Not once since Maria's death… She'd made it clear Liz's presence was not entirely welcome._

_She'd at least had the courtesy not to argue in front of Liz, though, and Max supposed he should be grateful for that. Whatever else it was she said about Liz to Max, she would not insult or attack the brunette to her face. Not so soon after Maria's death._

_And then he frowned, the full weight of her words slamming into him, and he asked, "You saw Liz and I?"_

"_No." She turned away, her tone bitter and caustic. "But imagine my surprise when I send our son upstairs to get you and Liz for dinner, and he comes back to tell me that Daddy is too busy kissing the other woman to notice him standing in the door."_

_Max paled, his eyes snapping towards his son. "He saw…?"_

"_Yes," Tess answered in a clipped tone. "He saw." She wasn't crying, he could tell that much from her voice even though her back was to him. But her words were filled with fury, and hurt, and he knew she was probably close to breaking down._

"_Tess, wait," he said, reaching for her arm as she moved to step past him. "It was a mistake. I never meant to… you know I wouldn't do this to you… or him… You _know_ me."_

_She spun to face him, cheeks red with embarrassment and rage, "I thought I knew you, Max. I know you love her, Max. And I tried to be okay with that. But I thought… I thought you had the common decency not to make out with her in _our_ house. In front of _our_ son." And she walked past him into the dinning room._

He came tumbling back into reality with a feeling of surprise, frustration, and guilt. He was still holding Tess' arm, and she yanked in from his grip, her eyes wide and unreadable.

He licked his lips and asked tentatively, "Did you see that flash also?" even though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

Tess nodded, blonde curls bouncing. Her gaze was cold, but it wasn't so much anger that had frozen her expression as bewilderment. He was not sure why she appeared so puzzled, but as she drew away from him with her eyebrows slowly raising into her hairline, he could not deny the look of utter befuddlement in her face.

"Yo, you two alright?" Michael's voice interrupted Max's thoughts, and he and Tess both turned towards the hybrid General.

"Fine," Tess said, her tone short and sharp.

"Tess," he started, feeling surprisingly guilty. "You have to understand…"

"I do understand," she said in a voice devoid of emotion. Then the sudden rush of bitterness and sarcasm that clouded her words, "I understand _perfectly_. I'm not Liz, so I'm never going to be good enough. Am I?"

"About time you figured that out," Maria grumbled softly, but still loud enough for both Max and Tess to hear. Max sent her an annoyed glance, but Tess ignored the comment completely as she continued to scrutinize Max's face as though looking for something.

Finally, she said, "And you, apparently, make an incredibly lousy husband _and_ father."

She walked away from him then, and he let her go, because really, what else did he have to say? He could feel both Michael and Maria's stares on him, but he turned his back purposefully on the two and gazed back out the window and across the street towards Michael's apartment.

It was remarkable, he couldn't help but muse, how many ways he could manage to screw up. Every single timeline seemed to have something so wrong with his internal character, with all of his relationships. And each of these wrongs were so completely different from timeline to timeline.

If there were so many different ways he had managed to make a mistake, then how was he ever going to get this right? Or were they forever doomed to repeat the same eventual scenario, to have the world fall to Khivar?

"Look, if we can talk reality here for a second," Maria said at last, breaking the tense silence that had fallen, "I think Courtney booked. Out of town."

"No dice," Michael countered. "She wouldn't do that. She's too obsessed with me."

"Well, I guess that makes two of you then, doesn't it?" Maria smirked, eyebrow lifted challengingly.

"She'll show up sooner or later," Michael said, stubbornly refusing to take the bait in Maria's comment.

"How about sooner?" a voice said.

Michael, Maria, Max, and Tess all spun to face the entrance, to find Courtney standing in the doorway, arms folded over her chest. She was eyeing them all with a smug expression, and Max had no idea what exactly she had to be smug about. But seeing her again made the headache come back at full force, and he had the sudden urge to send her sprawling into the wall.

He didn't, but both he and Michael raised their hands, ready to attack if need be.

"Whoa. Truce, boys," she drawled, lifting her arms, palms facing outwards as though surrendering. "I come in peace. Well, sort-of."

Her gaze lingered for a moment on Max, then moved back to Michael and Maria.

"Don't move," Michael ordered stiffly as he stepped closer towards her, blocking her view of Maria. Max quickly moved to Michael's side, and Tess came to stand slightly behind them, ready to join any necessary fighting.

"Don't worry," Courtney said, smiling. "I won't." She folded her arms over her chest once more and tilted her head to the side. "Let me guess. You were watching the building. You figured out where I'd be from the pictures." When no one made any attempts to contradict her statement, her smile widened, and she said, "That's very good, Mikey G. You're everything I thought you'd be, and more."

"Oh, please!" Maria scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Don't your lips ever get..."

"Technically," Tess said, interrupting Maria before she could finish her remark, "I was the one who figured out where you'd be." She paused, gave Michael a quick look, then said, "Although I suppose Michael might have been able to figure it out on his own."

"He would have done it brilliantly," Maria muttered, looking over Tess with a cold glare. Tess shrugged, and Maria added, "Probably faster than you did..."

"But you," Courtney said, turning to Max before Maria could continue her comment, "turned out to be quite the mystery. And yet I'm impressed. You turned out to be who you said you were."

"Why did you attack me?" Max demanded hotly.

"Yeah!" Maria chimed in. "And if you wanted to kill him, why did you run off so quickly?"

"You know, Maria, I don't think we should be reminding Courtney of her failure to kill Max," Tess said sharply, rolling her eyes.

"You know, I think she probably figured it out, given that he's alive and standing in front of her," Maria hissed in reply.

"God, you're pathetic," Courtney remarked carelessly. "It's no wonder you keep losing. And my bet it, you're just going to keep failing because you sure as hell haven't learned anything, have you?"

And Max couldn't help the sting he felt in his chest, the dull pain that wrapped around his heart and constricted tightly at those words. Because wasn't that exactly what he had been thinking before? Weren't her caustic words just an echo of his own fears?

Was he really going to just keep ruining everything?


	12. The Eleventh Dimension: Continuum

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Okay, so this ended up being a long chapter. And it was supposed to be longer, but I realized I had to divide it in two because I simply could not get through everything I wanted otherwise.

Summary: How many more time could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more until he finally got it right?

* * *

The Eleventh Dimension: Continuum

_Faith is a continuum, and we each fall on that line where we may. By attempting to rigidly classify ethereal concepts like faith, we end up debating semantics to the point where we entirely miss the obvious… that we're all trying to decipher life's big mysteries."_

_- Dan Brown_

Max drew a slow breath, trying to organize his thoughts. The silence was almost oppressive, the tension in the room simmering in the air between them. Tess was leaning against the wall, arms folded over her chest, blue eyes filled with frustration and anger that could have been directed at almost anyone in the room. Michael mimicked her posture, but he was leaning against the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and his gaze kept moving to Maria, who sat perched on the cushions below him.

Max looked over at Courtney. She was sitting stiffly at the edge of a hardback chair, but despite the awkwardness of her stance, despite the fact that all eyes were fixed on her, she seemed to be the most relaxed of anyone in the room.

"So… let me get this straight," Michael said finally, his words hard and guttural, "you mind-warped Max into thinking that the other Max was in trouble, then you broke into my apartment and mind-raped him, went through his memories, and now… now you want us to _trust_ you?"

Courtney nodded. "Yes, that's right." She met Max's gaze for a moment, then turned back to Michael. "Can you really blame me for being a little bit suspicious of a man who claims to be from the future? I was just trying to make sure you hadn't put your faith in the wrong person."

"We can make our own decisions, thank you," Maria retorted angrily.

Courtney smirked. "Can you, really? Because you haven't actually managed it yet."

Max looked away from Courtney, his gaze returning to the window. She had already explained repeatedly that she had only wanted to look through his memories to confirm that he was really who he said he was, and that she had not meant to cause any lasting harm. In her own twisted way, she had been trying to protect the others – Michael, in particular – from Khivar.

The problem was that he had trusted her once. He had trusted her, and then she'd attacked him, and now, despite all her reassurances, despite everything she said, he couldn't bring himself to trust her again.

"Look, it was a two-fold test," Courtney said, sounding frustrated at their refusal to believe her. "I wanted to know how Max would respond if he thought his past self was in danger. A skin would do nothing, just let the Max from this time get hurt. But he," she gestured towards the still brooding Max, "didn't do nothing. He alerted Michael. So it seemed likely that he was on your side."

"And yet you still broke into Michael's apartment and attacked Max," Maria drawled with a huff of impatience. To Michael, she asked, "Why are we still listening to her?"

"I went into the apartment because I needed to see into his mind, I needed confirmation," Courtney said firmly, sending a withering look towards the blonde human. "That was the second part of the test. And he passed. So why are you all sitting around here wasting your time with pointless questions?"

"Because _you_ haven't passed _our_ test," Michael answered sharply.

Max continued to stare out the window, letting the tension roll over him in great waves. He felt anxious, worried… and he didn't like it. Courtney's snide comments and mocking gaze only served to further increase his own insecurities about this mission, and he didn't want to consider what would happen if he failed.

"Yo, Maxwell, you with us?"

Max frowned at Michael, but nodded. "Yeah." He glanced over at Courtney, then questioned quietly, "Why should we believe you?"

"You believed me yesterday," Courtney replied. "You trusted me yesterday. What changed?"

"You attacked me," Max snapped.

Courtney rolled her pretty eyes and leaned back in the seat, watching him with an unreadable stare. "I told you what I was doing and why. It's not like you were left with any lasting effects." She squinted at him for a moment, then added, "By the way, that headache will eventually fade."

Max didn't answer right away. He didn't know what he would even say to her. Just yesterday, he'd seen the hurt and betrayal in Isabel's eyes at the fact that he could so easily share information with Courtney. At the time, he'd been so convinced in the rebel skin's loyalty that he had dismissed Isabel's concerns. Now… now he just didn't know.

Finally, he said, "Suppose we do believe you. What can you actually offer us that might be worthwhile?"

"What? Max, are you insane?" Maria hissed, turning towards him with an incredulous look. "You can't actually trust her after everything she did?"

"I can tell you that you keep screwing up," Courtney answered calmly, locking eyes with Max. "You haven't gotten anywhere. You keep trying to save the world, but you fail. Over and over."

"We already know that," Michael said under his breath, and Max flinched at the comment. He knew it wasn't meant as an insult, but it still stung to hear those words fall so easily from his best friend's lips.

"I can help you," Courtney argued. "I can show you how to fix this."

"You have the answer?" Mari scoffed, shaking her head as she rose to her feet and stepped away from Courtney. "How very convenient for you."

"Even I don't believe that," Max added quietly, "and I'm the one who actually thinks you might be trustworthy."

"I've got ideas," Courtney answered. "And you obviously don't." She, too, rose to her feet. Michael took a threatening step towards her, and she lifted one eyebrow, as though daring him to tell her to sit back down. He remained silent, studying her with a scrutinizing stare, and she let a small smirk tug at her lips.

"We don't care about your ideas," Maria said icily.

"Hmm… pity. Well, if you change your mind, I'm sure you can figure out how to find me," Courtney answered sardonically. Then, without waiting for a reply from anyone in the room, she turned and walked briskly through the door, disappearing from sight.

Maria and Michael both took involuntary steps as though to chase her down, but Max said, "Let her go. We've gotten everything we need for now."

"You don't actually trust her?" Maria growled, disbelief and suspicion still shining brightly in her eyes. "Can't you tell that she's playing you? She's playing all of us."

"Oh, I won't deny that she has another agenda," Max answered readily enough. "She always had another agenda." He slanted a quick look at Michael, ignoring Maria's muttered protests at those words, then added, "But I do think she was telling the truth about her motives in this particular case. She was just trying to determine if I really was from the future."

"So now what?" Michael asked before Maria had a chance to say anything. "We don't have much in the way of answers, we don't know if we can trust Courtney, and we don't know how to stop the end of the world. Not exactly the most helpful, is it?"

There was a silence as each person in the room digested that statement. It was true, all of it, and Max knew he still didn't have the answers. What could he offer them besides guesses that probably wouldn't pan out to be anything?

Then Maria asked in a thoughtful tone, "Do you remember enough of the other timelines to be able to sort them out in your head?" Max nodded slowly, fairly certain that he could do what she wanted, and she continued, "So that is where we start."

"What do you mean?" Max questioned.

"Look, we all agreed that we need to know what made one timeline different from another." Maria sent a mistrustful and rather acrimonious stare towards Tess as she added pointedly, "We were going to start with Tess, remember? Figure out why she became a murderer in some futures?"

Tess stiffened and returned the glare with her own furious glower, but she remained silent.

"I don't remember enough to know everything," Max said quickly, jumping in before an argument could break out again.

"So there might be gaps in your story. It's still better than nothing."

Max nodded again, seeing the truth in her words. "Alright," he acquiesced, a little reluctant, but knowing that this could provide useful information.

As the four of them walked from the building, Max realized with growing trepidation that Tess had not said an entire word throughout the exchange with Courtney or the discussion that followed. He looked at her, but she wasn't looking at him, and he couldn't read her expression.

For reasons he couldn't explain, his unease began to grow.

* * *

The floor was littered with scraps of paper, notes Max had jotted down in an effort to organize the memories in his muddled mind. From beyond the closed door, he heard the rise and fall of voices. He knew the others were probably talking about him, or about Courtney, or about the entire mess.

He sighed and leaned back, running a hand through his hair. It was getting close to night now, and it was weird to think that it had only been two nights since he had arrived, two nights since he had hid in the shadows outside Isabel's window.

Isabel was still with present-Max, but how much longer could she hold him off? He wanted her to be here, to hear what he was going to tell them, to listen to the stories he had managed to string together. It wasn't much, what he knew, but it was enough.

Still, Liz was probably back by now, as was Alex. Kyle might have even joined the group, along with Jim. They'd all want to hear…

He sighed and climbed slowly to his feet, thinking. Courtney's words continued to echo in his mind. Would she be able to help them? Had he been a fool for letting her leave when she might have had answers? Or was he just kidding himself, was she really the enemy? He didn't believe that, but…

He didn't really know what he believed anymore.

Gathering the papers together and folding them carefully in his hands, he turned his attention towards the door, ready to face the others. They'd left him alone for now, because the only one who could actually help him pull out memories was Isabel, and she was too busy worrying about his other self.

With a groan, he walked to the door and pushed it open, ready to face the others.

* * *

It started with an argument. Angry words, bitter comments, harsh insults. It started with an argument, and when Tess left the Crashdown, no one bothered to stop her.

They'd regret that later, of course, when they learned of her death.

He wasn't entirely sure what had happened. He thought perhaps Nicolas was behind the attack. A strange fire had erupted, burning the entire building, and taking Tess' life.

Then it was hazy. A fog that was only punctuated by a few sharp memories. Kyle leaving after graduation, and not once bothering to look back, to wonder about all of them. Max and Liz eloping, the soft rustle of Liz's hair as she brushed it out her eyes and whispered "I do." Isabel's frantic screams as she awoke from the first nightmare, the dreams that would not stop until Khivar drove her to insanity. An outbreak of some alien virus in New York City, the FBI getting involved again. And the skins attacking, always attacking…

Maria's death. It was hard and sharp, a memory that seared itself into his mind and did not let go. A memory that haunted him, taunted him. He'd failed to protect her, and when she'd died, it seemed as though the world had fallen apart.

Michael had certainly crumbled in her absence.

There were gaps in his memory. He had no idea how they went from Maria's death to Isabel's demise. Several years passed in that interim, but the memories of this timeline did not reappear until that fateful night that Isabel, unable to take it any longer, had left the safety of their hideout and gone to face Khivar on her own.

He'd killed her.

And the FBI killed Kyle's wife. That, too, was a blank in his mind. He hadn't even known Kyle was married in this timeline, except for the one distinct memory he had of interacting with the one-time football jock. Of throwing him against a wall, threatening to kill him… because Kyle had given the FBI the location of the pod chamber in a bid to save his daughter from the same fate as her luckless mother.

More fog, more vague memories, impressions and emotions. Alex had died, he knew, though he was not sure how. He had no memory of Serena either, though she must have played a roll in everything given that the idea to travel to the past had originated from her. But by and large, he remembered very little after the argument with Kyle.

Until he and Liz were at the pod chamber, and Michael was dying outside, holding off the skins so that they could succeed at their plan, they could change the past, and thereby change the future.

"Let me get this straight," Maria said coolly, eyebrows lifted. "The world was falling apart because Tess had left and you no longer had the Four Square. So you convinced Liz to pretend to sleep with Kyle to push you towards your past-wife?"

"Um… yeah, I think so," Max answered with a weary nod.

"That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard," she said incredulously. "Why didn't you just _tell_ Tess that she couldn't leave?"

Max shrugged, unable to answer. Ever since he had first figured out the details of that particular plan, he, too, could not quite believe that he had managed to come up with that ridiculous of an idea. But hearing Maria say it aloud just made everything sound even more absurd. He wasn't sure what the other version of himself had hoped to accomplish, besides making himself and Liz both miserable.

"So did it work?" Alex asked, interjecting his question before anyone else had a chance to comment.

Max frowned. "Obviously not," he said pointedly, "given that I kept having to come back and try to fix it all again." Had Alex actually somehow managed to miss the entire point of his trip to the past?

"No, I meant…" Alex hesitated, sending an apologetic look towards Liz, before saying, "Did Liz push you away? Did you end up with Tess?"

Max sighed heavily. "No. Not that time," he said.

* * *

That time, it started with a death.

He remembered Alex's death vividly, just like he remembered the feeling of nearly uncontrollable pain and betrayal that had slammed into him when he realized just who had been behind it. That, coupled with the loss of his son, had left him nearly broken. He'd pulled himself together because he knew he wasn't the only one hurting, and with the truth about Tess coming out into the open, he _needed_ to lead.

She'd returned, sacrificed herself to the government to protect her son, and disappeared from their lives once more. And they'd fled, he remembered that, too. Fled after graduation, spending their time on the road.

Then what?

Isabel had married someone else, a man named Jesse that he had never met, at least not in his timeline. But she'd married him, and they'd seemed happy, but… but she'd left him behind. She'd fled, living with the others, running from the FBI, and Jesse… what had he done? He'd gone somewhere… Boston, maybe?

Max couldn't remember.

Then Kyle had met Jenni, who was in the process of escaping a horrible divorce, and the two had fallen in love. Kyle had been happy, for a time. His wedding had been simple, a quick ceremony at a judge's office, because they couldn't take the chance of staying in one place for too long, of having the skins find them. They'd used fake names, of course, to avoid being found by the FBI. Max was sure he was wanted in more than one state.

Of course, the skins had been them, and the FBI… The FBI had found Jesse.

The FBI had come after him, probably because of his connection to Isabel. He'd fled, and Serena, who was a friend of his at the time, had tried to help him, and ended up getting sucked into this mess as well. Jesse had been killed – Isabel screaming in horror at his broken, bloodied body, while Michael tried to hold her, tried to tell her that everything would be okay even though they both knew that wasn't true – but Serena had joined the others, become friends with Liz.

Maria was already dead at that point, had been dead for a while. Max didn't know why, didn't remember… but he remembered Michael's growing anger, his nearly uncontrollable temper, and Liz's tears that she bravely tried to hide when she thought anyone might be watching.

And then the dreams. In that timeline, too, Khivar had tormented Isabel through her dreams.

"So, I uh… I end up with this Jenni a lot," Kyle said, arching one eyebrow at Max. "Is she hot?"

Maria rolled her eyes. "We're trying to figure out how to save the world, Kyle," she drawled. "How can you actually be thinking about your future wife's looks?"

"What, like you wouldn't be asking the exact same thing if you were in my position," Kyle shot back. He looked over at Max again, and then shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. "This is weird. Creepy. You guys sure he's really Max?"

"We're sure," Liz said tiredly, "just like we told you the last twenty times you asked."

"What?" Kyle said defensively, gesturing towards Max. "It _is_ weird. You'll have to forgive me if I'm not as used to alien stuff as you are. I'm new to your little clique."

"Doesn't seem a whole lot different from the other timeline," Michael said gruffly, breaking into the conversation before the argument could continue. He leaned forward and gave Max a scrutinizing stare as he said, "Tess is still gone, although for a different reason. Isabel still dies the same way. Maria… she dies also… Kyle marries Jenni and apparently has a happy life and doesn't care about the rest of us…"

"Stuff it, Guerin."

"…and then you come back in time and try to save us all." With a sardonic smile, Michael added dryly, "Nice job."

"Give him a break, he's trying," Liz said softly, and Max answered her comment with a faint smile.

"Do you know what your brilliant plan was that time? Did you have Liz pretend to sleep with someone else? Michael, maybe, or Alex?" Maria questioned sarcastically.

Max looked at Liz for a moment, then gave a heavy sigh. "Yeah… yeah, I remember what the plan that time. And no, it didn't involve Liz sleeping with anyone else."

"So what was it?" Maria demanded.

"_You have to turn her in," Max said firmly._

"_Look, Max, I want Tess to pay as much as you do. Maybe more," Liz said, staring at him with reluctant, disbelieving eyes. "But to turn her over to the Army… you can't seriously think that is the right thing to do."_

"_She'll turn herself in anyway," Max answered. "She'll do it of her own accord when we vote to protect her. She'll die, she'll let herself die, because it is the only way to protect Zan."_

"_You don't know that."_

"_Of course I do!" Max countered, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm from the future, remember? This is _exactly_ the sort of thing I know." Liz still did not acquiesce, and he continued almost desperately, "Liz, listen to me. When Tess blows up the base, the FBI get suspicious. They take the tape my Mom made of Isabel using her powers. They use that as proof. Liz, that can't happen. If we can prevent that, then we won't have to flee at graduation. We won't leave Roswell unprotected. My Mom won't die, Amy DeLuca won't die, the FBI won't be pursuing us. We can stay together, we can protect Jesse. We can save Maria, too, because we'll be better able to protect ourselves when the skins attack."_

"_I'm not a murderer, Max," Liz said, rubbing her forehead. "God, this is like sleeping with Kyle all over again."_

"_Except that this time the plan will work," Max answered. Liz looked at him questioningly, and he said, "You told me. In the future, you explain why you did what you did. Of course, it didn't do us any good given what Tess turned out to be…" He looked away and let out a slow breath._

"_Max, I can't do this," Liz whispered. "I can't be the reason Tess dies. That will make me no better than her."_

"_Then convince Tess to turn herself in earlier," Max pleaded. "Convince her to do it at the beginning, before the Army comes to our house, before the find the tape of Isabel."_

"_How can you be okay with killing her?"_

"_Do you have any idea how many skins I've killed?" Max retorted fiercely, eyes blazing. "Do you have any idea how many enemies have died at my hands? I've been fighting a war for _years_, Liz. I've killed, and I've seen people I love killed." He blinked, swallowed back his tears. "Alex, Maria, Jesse, Isabel, Michael… you…" He drew a breath and said, "Please, Liz. You have to save us."_

"Did she?" Maria asked curiously.

Max shook his head wordlessly, glancing at Tess out of the corner of his eye. They hadn't spoken since she had seen the flash of his conversation with Liz, since she had witnessed just how lousy of a husband he had been to her. She was silent, but her expression was stormy, her blue eyes dark and angry.

"Then what happened?" Maria pressed.

"She left," Max said, looking back at her. Then he turned his attention to Liz and continued, "I asked her to do something she just couldn't. She hadn't been through war yet, she wasn't a killer… she refused to do what I asked. She couldn't take it, so she… she left."

* * *

That time, his world ended long before anyone else's did. It crumbled to pieces, leaving him alone and hurt, wallowing in self-pity and denial, unable to comprehend. That time, when the world fell apart, it started with a letter.

The other version of himself had visited Liz only days before her powers started to show, and that had been the final push over the edge for her. She could not take the combination of having a boyfriend who had cheated on her, a future boyfriend who was telling her she had to be a killer or the world would end, and inexplicable aliens powers bursting uncontrollably from her. She'd decided to leave Roswell, to go to boarding school, and she never once looked back.

All she had left him was a letter, telling him that she loved him, but she needed to do what was right for her.

And so Liz had ironically ended up doing exactly what that future version of Max had wanted. Max, so pained by her loss, so furious at Tess for driving a wedge in between them, voted to turn Tess over to the Army. It would have made no difference to Tess, given that she died at the army base in both timelines, but it made a difference to Max. It was a slippery slope, and he had let his desire for revenge guide his actions. He had done what he wanted, not what was right.

From there, it was all downhill.

He had very few memories of what had happened in between when Liz had come to boarding school and when she had walked so unexpectedly back into his life. Maria had died, trying to protect Liz from a group of human rebels. Trying to protect Liz, who didn't even know she was in danger. It had made Michael furious, and Michael, who had never forgiven Liz for leaving them all, would have killed the brunette had she been there.

Isabel had been taken by the skins. He didn't know what had become of her. Had she died? Or was she still alive, being tormented by Khivar? Or had she given in to Vilandra, had she become the enemy? He did not know, and he supposed he should be grateful for that.

Losing Isabel had been nearly impossible, but having to face her as his enemy? He would never have survived that.

Kyle, too, disappeared. He did not know how or why, only that the jock was gone. It was all hazy, memories not vivid enough to provide any insight. Even the memories he did have were vague, and did not given all the details, did not offer him enough clues to find the answers. It was muddy, cloudy, entangled…

Until the crystal clear memory of finding Liz.

Liz, who had been horrified at what he had become. Liz, who kept trying to change him, who didn't seem to realize that he was beyond saving. She could not accept the person he was, and he could not forgive her for what she had done. He did not know why she had left, and he had never asked. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she had missed too much of all their lives to think she could be welcomed back into the group.

He did not know how Serena had come into the picture. He had no memory of her at all, but she must have been a friend of his, or else how would he have known anything about time travel?

That time, it was Michael who had come up with the suggestion for what to change in the past. Max had gone back with one plan – eliminate the threats before they had a chance to do any harm. He'd miss-timed it, however, and while he had planned to go back far enough so that he could track down Nasedo and Tess and kill them both before they even reached Roswell, he'd turned up around the same time that they were all discovering the truth about their past lives.

That time, he hadn't gone to Liz at all.

He'd gone to Tess and threatened to kill her – nearly murdered Nasedo – but his harsh, uncompromising actions had had such a sudden, forceful effect on how future events would play out, that he had ended up fading from existence before he could actually kill either of them.

"Well… I guess that's good," Alex said. "I mean… Tess isn't evil… right? So you not getting the chance to kill her is good."

"You know, you're awfully forgiving of the girl who kills you," Maria muttered.

Alex shot her an annoyed look.

Tess said nothing.

"What happened?" Jim pressed, moving a little closer to the blonde hybrid Queen. Max inwardly marveled at the Sheriff's determination to protect a girl he had not even known existed a year ago. But throughout the entire discussion, he had stood at her side, and now he was stepping even closer to her, as though his steady, supportive presence could protect her from the ire of the others in the room.

"Yeah. Why did you fade away?"

Max looked at Tess. "I was furious. I was yelling at Tess as I tried to kill her and Nasedo. About how she had ruined all our lives, how I had lost everything because of her. How we would have accepted her, how we did accept her, trusted her even, and look what she turned out to be…? I think she freaked. I think she realized that she cared enough about us not to want the world I was describing."

"So she made a decision right then that she wouldn't let it happen, wouldn't let it come to pass," Kyle said with dawning realization, "and that was all it took to change the future, to get you to disappear." He gave Tess a broad smile, and some of the anger faded from her sapphire eyes.

Max nodded. "That's my assumption, but I don't think we will ever know the full story. Only _that_ Tess will know exactly what she was thinking, and she's gone."

"So then what happened?" Michael prompted. "What was the next future like?"

Max chewed his lip thoughtfully. "We were all unhappy, but it wasn't just the skins or the FBI. In that future, we did a lot of the damage ourselves."

* * *

It started with a conversation.

Tess had tried harder to be supportive of Max. So when he caught Liz supposedly sleeping with Kyle, she offered him a shoulder to cry on, but didn't push towards a relationship. They just talked... and she told him she was sorry for what he was feeling, that she knew how much he loved Liz, that she didn't like seeing him hurt. They talked, and she never once mentioned destiny.

Maybe that was why he fell for her, because she started pulling back, and after losing Liz, he needed something to hold onto. Or maybe he had just been kidding himself, fooling himself into thinking she could replace was Liz had ripped out of his heart.

Whatever the reason, they'd ended up together. Married. With a son.

Alex hadn't died. They hadn't been forced to flee after graduation. Life had simply gone on like normal. Except that Max was married to someone he did not truly love. Not like he loved Liz.

That was all it took for Maria to refuse to speak to him for ages. It had placed a strain on his friendship with Michael, because how could he continued spending time with his best friend when the love of Michael's life hated him?

Alex, too, had been angry, but he had not expressed it as vehemently as Maria had. Still, he shied away from interacting with Max, and hardly said anything to Tess unless absolutely necessary. He was polite, civil, but overly formal. The distance grew between all of them, and when Isabel married Alex, the ceremony was less than collegial.

Kyle had been furious at Maria and Alex for their treatment of Tess. He had turned a blind eye to Tess' treatment of Maria, even though Maria ended up as his step-sister. Jim was not able to do the same, given that he had married Maria's mother, and so he was stuck with a step-daughter and adopted daughter who hated each other, a son who hated his step-daughter and his new wife, and a wife who couldn't figure out why he wouldn't automatically take his step-daughter's side.

It was a mess.

So Maria, Alex, and Liz remained friends. Max, Isabel, Michael, and Tess remained friends. Tess and Kyle remained friends. And every time they all got together, which grew rarer and rarer as time progressed, they came close to killing each other.

And that was before the skins attacked.

The skins attached Liz, Maria died instead. The police had questioned Liz, believing her to be involved in the murder. Max had tried to protect Liz, offered her safety in his house, and then ended up kissing her. An act that was witnessed by his son.

He didn't remember many of the details. He had almost no recollections of actual battles with the skins or the FBI. What he remembered were the arguments. Their arguments.

After Maria's death, Michael had been furious that Max would not interrogate the distraught Liz, would not force her to relive the nightmare over and over, looking for answers.

When Isabel started having nightmares, Alex was furious that Max would not lead the others to attack Khivar, even though they both knew it was a suicide mission.

When Max kissed Liz, Kyle was furious at Liz for letting it happen, Tess was furious at Max for doing it, and Michael was furious at both of them because it was distracting from their mission to find and kill whoever had murdered Maria.

So much pain, so much suffering… somehow, they had forgotten that they were all on the same side.

But Liz figured it out. Liz, who had watched her soul mate marry someone else, who had watched her best friend die before her very eyes… Liz had been the one to suggest that maybe if Max went back in time, he should remind the others that they were all in this together.

And he did.

"That's good," Alex said, looking hopeful. "Shouldn't that have worked? I mean… shouldn't we have… shouldn't we have been able to save the world if we just…"

"This isn't an afterschool special on teamwork," Michael grumbled. "I don't think it is that simple."

"Apparently not," Max agreed. "I went back in time, visited Liz, told her that she needed to remember that we were in this together… She'd already pretended to sleep with Kyle, but she made an effort to be friendly to me, even though… even though I was so angry at her."

"So why didn't it work?" Kyle demanded.

"It did, actually. To some extent. Most of us stayed together, despite everything." Max ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "Unlike the previous timelines, we stayed together _and_ we didn't have to flee Roswell."

"And let me guess," Maria said dryly, "when you say most of us stayed together, you mean everyone except Alex and Tess."

Max shrugged and nodded. "I don't know why this time turned out different from the last timeline. Maybe in the last time line, Tess and I were already getting so close – and I mean emotionally close, not just physically," he watched in some amusement as Maria gagged and Alex hit her lightly on the arm, "that the skins decided they wouldn't be able to get to her. Whatever the reason, they didn't go after her in that timeline."

"And what about in the next one? The one you created when you told Liz to try to keep the group together?"

Max's expression darkened. "In that timeline… in that one, Tess wasn't so lucky."

* * *

It started with a threat. Tess had refused to help the skins, had informed them that she would not go through on Nasedo's deal… and they had not been happy. They'd told her if she wasn't going to help them willingly, they'd force her to do it against her will.

Congresswoman Whitaker had showed Tess that she could control the blonde, could make her do things she really didn't want to do. And she could prevent her from ever being able to tell anyone, to call out for help. Isabel had killed the congresswoman, and Tess had been free.

Until New York.

Lonnie and Rath, too, had been able to control her. And then Nicolas. She'd tried to fight it off, but couldn't. She had tried to ask for help, but the words would not leave her mouth. And she had been unable to do anything, to stop her enemies, as they forced her to mind-warp Alex into translating the book…

Until he died.

She'd left in the Granolith, left with all of them thinking she was a murderer.

Max remembered absolutely nothing, not even vague emotions or feelings, not anything at all, until five years after that, when he had stumbled across her in Seattle. But he remembered every detail of that first meeting.

It had been in downtown Seattle. He could still see the glistening water of the Puget Sound, could still hear the roar of cars speeding by, could still smell the scent of coffee from the Starbucks…

And she had been there.

A nightmare that would not leave him alone for five years. A mistake that haunted him, a child that he had never known.

He remembered everything about that moment when he had met her blue eyes and realized just who was standing in front of him.

The truth had come out. Slowly, bit by bit… they'd nearly had to drag it out of her. She was dating someone, a man named Nick, and she had two other friends… one of which was Serena's sister. Those three humans had been more revealing when it came to recounting the past five years, but Tess had almost completely refused to speak to them.

She'd been on earth for almost five years and hadn't told anyone. It had taken a long time to realize that she hadn't done to hurt them, she had done it because she was terrified of the past, too afraid to confront what had happened to her, what she had done.

He did not remember much about that timeline, and all his memories focused on Tess. He knew the others had died – Maria, first, and then Jesse, followed later by one of Tess' friends and Isabel, and then Liz. He didn't remember their deaths, he just knew that they _had_ died.

"Tess was happy with Nick. I mean, _really_ happy," Max explained. "I think that was what gave me the idea. I knew that if we could just protect her from the skins, it could work out for us. We could all be together, be a group. The Four Square would be complete, but…but it didn't have to get in the way of our relationships with everyone else. It didn't need to drive us apart. We could be happier… stronger."

"What did you do?"

"I told Tess," Max replied, turning his eyes to Jim as he answered the Sheriff's question. "I went back in time and I showed her a memory I had of watching her with Nick… And I warned her to be careful, that the skins were after her. She didn't say anything, but… She got really close to the rest of us. She became friends with Liz and Maria, and practically sisters with Isabel. I think that was what kept her safe. The skins must have realized that we would notice if she started acting out of character. In the other timeline, we didn't know her as well, and we didn't notice when she started acting strange. In this one, we would have."

"So did she find Nick again?" Kyle asked.

Even Tess looked interested in the answer to that question.

Max shook his head. "No. That was the last of the timelines… except for mine. My future." With a grin, he added, "And we know what happened with Tess in that one."

Michael chuckled and glanced at Kyle.

"Wait, who did Tess end up with?" Kyle asked in confusion, looking at the others.

Maria quirked a smile. "Didn't she tell you when she was explaining about Max last night?" she asked.

Kyle frowned. "No…"

"She gets a nice happy family, complete with a child," Maria said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Only this time, the kid doesn't belong to Max."

"Huh?" Kyle asked, still not understanding.

"She end up with you," Michael stated bluntly.

"_What_?" Kyle practically screeched.

And Tess, speaking up for the first time since the confrontation with Courtney, commented sarcastically, "Well you don't have to sound so horrified about it."

As Kyle gaped, opening and closing his mouth while not making any sound, Max continued somberly, "Anyway, I'm not going through my future again. I've told most of you bits and pieces of it, and if you want more, you can ask Isabel. I told her pretty much everything… and I don't want to repeat it."

The memories were vivid enough. And the nightmares were worse.

"Uh… Max?" Liz said suddenly, looking at him in shock.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, noting that everyone else was suddenly staring at him in silence.

"Look at yourself," she said faintly.

Max looked down at his hands and realized in surprise and fear that he was looking _through_ his palms. They were transparent.

He was fading away.

* * *

Author's note: Don't worry, I am nowhere near done with this story. I promise. Things are just about to get a little bit more complicated is all…


	13. The Twelfth Dimension: Nonexistence

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: So, it did take me a while to figure out exactly where I was going with this story, but now that I have the rest of it all lined out in my mind, we should be getting updates much more frequently. Expect them about once a week…

Summary: How many more times could he screw this up, he wondered, and just how many more times until he got it right?

* * *

The Twelfth Dimension: Nonexistence

_The unrest which keeps the never-stopping clock of metaphysics going is the thought that the non-existence of this world is just as possible as its existence._

_- William James_

Oddly, there was no panic.

He could see _through_ his hands, through the outline of his fingers. He was fading, disappearing, ceasing to exist before his very eyes, and yet somehow this did not inspire panic. Just a detached wonder, a vague idea that this was all very odd.

"Max? I don't understand… how…?"

It was Liz who spoke, her words faint and worried, her expression drawn. He met her dark brown eyes, and found himself unable to look away from the fear he saw there. He wished there was something he could say, anything at all to make sense of what was happening, to take away her concern.

"Does this mean we succeeded?" Maria asked, her tone sharper than it had been only moments before. There was an edge to it, and Max swung his gaze to her, searching her expression.

"It means we changed the timeline enough for _this_ Max to no longer be the future of _our_ Max," Michael answered. "Doesn't mean the change was good, though. Might have just made things worse."

"Thanks," Kyle drawled. "Your optimism is inspiring." He still seemed to be reeling from the revelation that he would end up married to Tess – with a child – in one of the timelines. Max couldn't blame him for that, but still, they had other concerns.

Ones far more urgent and pressing.

"You're not gone, though," Liz murmured. "I mean, you're fading, but you aren't… you haven't disappeared yet. Maybe we still have some time."

"How much time? And what do you expect we can do with it?" Maria argued.

"He's only been here two days," Liz pointed out logically, turning to her best friend with a shrug. "And he's already changed things, even though we've done pretty much nothing. Maybe we can make some drastic changes. Maybe we can… I don't know, maybe we can fix this."

"Maybe we should talk to Courtney," Michael suggested.

The reactions to that comment were exactly as Max would have predicted. Kyle and Jim, neither of whom even knew that she was an alien, looked confused. Annoyance crossed Tess' features and then faded as soon as it had come. Alex's eyebrows rose into his hairline and Liz sent a worried look towards Maria.

"What? Why?" Maria demanded loudly, her tone abrasive.

"She said she knew stuff…" Michael defended himself, refusing to back down even when confronted by Maria's glower. "It might be helpful."

"And this has nothing to do with the fact that she practically thinks you're God?" Maria snapped waspishly.

"Who's Courtney?" Jim asked, breaking into the conversation before the argument could escalate.

Max answered wearily, "She's an alien. She's a rebel… she's from a faction of people that want Michael to be in charge. To rule our planet. Antar."

Jim nodded and lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

"So she worships Michael?" Kyle remarked, rolling his eyes. His words were dripping with sarcasm as he continued, "And you want to get answers from someone who is obviously insane? Good thinking."

Michael huffed at the implied insult, but Maria smirked in agreement.

"What other choice do we have?" Michael demanded, glaring at everyone in the room, as though daring them to challenge him. "Pretty soon Maxwell here is going to disappear completely, and we'll lose any change at learning more about the future. If Courtney can really help, we need to take advantage of that now, not when our fearless leader from the future is gone."

"He's got a point," Max agreed, and inwardly cringed at the furious look Maria sent his way. Despite everything, despite facing the skins and the FBI and the end of the world… Maria still had the ability to scare him.

"I don't like this, Max," Liz protested softly, worriedly. "We can figure this out on our own." Max wasn't convinced, which Liz could probably tell from his expression, because she pressed, "Look, I'm not saying that Courtney's goals and our own might be the same. But she clearly doesn't care about who she hurts in the process. She _did_ attack you, remember."

"I know that," Max agreed quietly, "but I just don't want to take the chance that I've left any stone unturned. Not if the fate of the world relies on it."

The argument broke off then as Jim interrupted suddenly, "Where's Tess?"

Max looked around, confused. Tess was nowhere to be seen. At some point during the conversation she must have slipped out of the apartment without them noticing. He didn't know why she would have left unannounced, but he simply could not imagine that it was anything good.

The anxiety that he had felt for the past several hours solidified and he had no idea why.

* * *

As it turned out, nobody seemed to have any idea where to find Tess.

They'd split up almost an hour ago, and Max had yet to hear from anyone. Alex had returned to Isabel, most likely to fill her in on everything that had happened. Kyle and Jim had left together, announcing that they would check out all of Tess' favorite places. Maria and Michael had left to wander aimlessly around Roswell, looking for the blonde, and Max could only hope that if they found her, they would bring her back in one piece.

Maria was convinced that Tess was on her way to sell them out to the skins.

He sighed heavily and leaned back against the sofa in Michael's apartment, tilting his head to stare at the ceiling. Liz was pacing restlessly, and he knew that, like him, she wanted to be out there, searching for Tess. But he couldn't leave the apartment, not now that he was translucent, and Liz had refused to let him stay here by himself.

"Liz… you could have gone with Michael and Maria," he said for what seemed like the millionth time. "Or with Alex. You could have gone to my house and spent some time with the other me."

Liz shook her head. "No, I need to stay." She didn't elaborate on why she needed to stay, and Max was about to push for more answers, when Liz said quietly, "Max… in the timeline where Tess was being controlled by the skins… how early did it start?"

Max considered the question and what he remembered from that future. It was all hazy, but he would occasionally remember a vivid expression on Tess' face or a heart-wrenching sob as she told more of her story, fear making her words tense.

He shifted his weight forward, a little surprised that he was even able to sit without falling through the sofa. He apparently hadn't faded enough to no longer be solid, and the furniture would hold his body. He was thankful for that, as it would be much more difficult to have this conversation if he also had to worry about constantly falling through things.

"I think she said it started when Whitaker kidnapped her," he answered finally.

Liz nodded, her tan skin unnaturally pale. "Yeah… I was worried about that." She crossed to the window and stared out at the sky, her back to Max. She didn't say anything else, and she didn't need to. The implied question lingered in the air between them, as did the worrisome answer.

Still, Max needed confirmation. He needed to hear her say the words, because otherwise…

It was a possibility that he hadn't even thought of, even though all the pieces had been right there before him. But despite remembering that timeline, despite repeating his memories to Liz and the others, he hadn't thought… even for a moment… that this might happen.

"Tess has already been kidnapped by Whitaker."

"Yes. A couple weeks ago. Isabel's birthday," Liz answered softly.

Max buried his head in his hands. "So Tess could already be…"

"Under control of the skins?" Liz turned to face him, nodding reluctantly. "It's a possibility. But I don't know, Max. That only happened in one of the six timelines you recounted for us. Maybe… maybe they haven't gone after her in this one. Maybe we're worried about nothing."

Max didn't answer. It was true that there was the distinct possibility Tess had left of her own volition, and not because she was being coerced into taking information to their enemies. Of course, there was also the possibility that the skins had already orchestrated the beginning of their demise, and he had completely missed it.

"I hate this," he grumbled. "I hate just sitting here, not being able to go out and help."

"I know," Liz answered, "but you can't think like that. You _are_ helping. We wouldn't be able to save the world if you weren't… if you hadn't come back in time."

Max opened his mouth, intent on bitterly pointing out that they still didn't know if they had succeeded in saving the world. But Liz's expression was so sincere, so intensely caring, that he couldn't bring himself to say the words that would leave her crestfallen. She was trying her best to cheer him up, so he forced a smile and nodded.

They both lapsed into silence. Liz continued to look out the window, watching for any signs of Michael or the others returning. Max closed his eyes and tried to focus on his hazy memories, wishing he could pull up another vision of something, an incident that might help him figure out what to do next.

But all he saw were the inside of his eyelids.

"How would we even know if Tess was being possessed?" Liz questioned a few minutes later. "And how would we… save her?"

"Do you know how to perform an exorcism?" Max answered with a grin.

Liz rolled her eyes.

"Isabel could probably tell by dream-walking her," Max said thoughtfully.

"So why don't we start with that?" Liz said, turning towards the phone. "And maybe we're worried about nothing. Maybe…" She grabbed the phone and trailed off, quickly preparing to dial the Evans' number.

"You could just go over there and talk to Isabel in person," Max suggested.

Liz gave him a bewildered frown. "Why are you so eager to get rid of me?"

"I'm not," Max rushed to assure her, "but I know that you don't want to be here. You'd rather be out there doing something, and I don't blame you. I want to be out there doing something also. _I_ can't, but you… We don't both need to be stuck here."

"I don't mind," Liz answered with a shrug.

"Why not?"

Liz swallowed, looking a little hesitant. Then she sighed and said, "Look, Max… you're disappearing. And I just… I don't want to be alone. I don't want to worry that… that you might cease to exist without anyone here with you."

Max smiled warmly, touched by Liz's thoughtfulness. "Liz… I appreciate that." And he did, truly. He hadn't even considered the possibility that he might be alone when he finally disappeared. The idea was a little horrifying, now that he thought about it. But he also knew that, in the end, even if Liz was here, he would be alone when he finally faded away.

And anyway, he knew he didn't belong with this Liz. He belonged with the Liz of his own timeline, and this Liz… belonged with the Max of her own time.

Before he could say anything, however, Liz had already moved away from him, calling Isabel.

"Hi, Mrs. Evans, it's Liz. Is Isabel there? Yeah, thanks… Hey, it's Liz. Yeah, look, can you do something for us? We need you to dream-walk Tess… Max thinks you would be able to tell if… yeah, the skins… exactly. Can you do that? Great. Okay, let us know."

* * *

It was another hour before Maria returned… alone.

"Where's Michael?" Liz asked curiously, "I thought you two were together."

Maria's eyebrows rose almost comically, "He's not back yet? We split up twenty minutes ago, he said he needed to swing by Isabel's house to talk to her for a moment. I kept driving around looking for Tess… he's not back yet?"

Liz shook her head. "No."

The phone rang then, interrupting the conversation, and Liz reached automatically for it. "Hello, Michael's apartment. Oh, hey Isabel… yeah… hey, is Michael there? No? That's weird, Maria said he was going to… Is she okay? Okay… where… oh, okay, I'll tell Max… yeah, we'll go get her."

"What's going on?" Max asked anxiously as Liz hung up the phone.

"Michael isn't there. He never came by," Liz said to Maria. Then, to Max, she said with obvious relief, "Isabel didn't see anything weird when she dream-walked Tess."

"No skins?"

"No skins," Liz confirmed happily.

"Oh, thank God," Max breathed, sinking onto the nearest chair. In the past hour, his mind had already started racing ahead to all the different scenarios that could play out if the skins knew he was here. Above all else, he could not afford to allow his knowledge to fall in the wrong hands. It would only give them the ability to end the world in an even more rapid and brutal manner.

Maria looked between them, bewildered and lost by the conversation. "What are you talking about?"

"We thought Tess might be possessed," Liz explained almost giddily, excited now that the danger had passed. "But she wasn't, so that means the skins still don't know anything."

"Yeah, unless she told them willingly," Maria replied sardonically, her words a clear indicator that she was not about to forgive Tess for her sins from a different future. But she was also distracted by the other comment Liz had made, and before Max could respond, she had pressed on to a different matter, "What do you mean Michael hasn't shown up at Isabel's?"

Liz answered with a half-hearted shrug, her attention still on Max. "Isabel said Tess is at the pod chamber."

"Hey, can we focus on Michael for a minute here?" Maria demanded. "He _lied_ to me."

"Do you think he ran into any trouble on his way to talk to Isabel?" Liz asked worriedly. "Maybe something is preventing him from…"

"Yeah, or maybe he just lied," Maria snapped irritably.

"Did Isabel know why Tess was at the pod chamber?" Max asked, dismissing Michael for the moment. It was not that he was not concerned for his friend, but the twisting in his stomach was telling him that Tess was the more pressing issue.

Liz shook her head. "No, she just said it was hazy and difficult for her tell anything. She thought Tess was distressed. She didn't say anything else."

Max jumped to his feet, reaching for his jacket. "Alright, Liz, can you drive me out to the pod chamber? I need to talk to Tess before I disappear completely."

There was an unreadable look in Liz's eyes, one that told him she was distressed by his words or actions. But she didn't say anything, and he did not have the time or energy to press her for answers. She slowly reached for her car keys and he turned towards the door.

"What about Michael?" Maria hissed. "What about the lying jerk?"

Max's hand rested on the doorknob, translucent and clear fingers closing over the metal. But this time, unlike with the sofa, the metal could not hold his form, and his hand slid through the doorknob and clutched air.

Liz hesitated. "Are you sure you can even sit in the car?"

Max licked his lips. "I don't know. I haven't fallen through the floor yet, I assume that is a good sign."

Liz nodded reluctantly, gazing at the floor with a wince. "Okay, if you're sure… but if you fall through the car and end up rolling around on the ground, I'm not sure I can explain that to anyone who sees."

"I'll be fine."

"Hey! Is no one listening to me?" Maria growled.

"Sorry," Liz murmured contritely, but Max was only dimly aware of the interaction between the two girls behind him. He stared at his palms, flexing his fingers slowly. It was a strange feeling, knowing just how limited his time was. He'd known all along, of course, that if he succeeded, he would be erasing himself. That was the only way to save the future.

Still, knowing that this would happen, in a hypothetical manner, was entirely different from actually experiencing it.

"…try calling him?"

"Doing it now… no answer…"

Max blinked and looked over at Liz, waiting. Maria was staring angrily at her phone, having evidently tried to call Michael and been unable to get through. He sighed heavily, wondering how Maria hadn't reached the obvious conclusion yet. Michael wasn't here, wasn't answering his phone, and had lied about where he was going. There was only one place he could be.

Suddenly frustrated, Max snapped, "He went to find Courtney. Damn it, he didn't listen and he went to find her alone."

Liz was stunned into silence, but Maria said angrily, "Why are you so upset about it? You agreed it was a good idea to talk to her."

"Not alone, not without backup. Never without backup." Max drew a slow breath, thinking rapidly. Despite his distrust of Courtney, he could not imagine that the rebel skin would actually hurt Michael. It went against everything she believed in, everything she wanted for Antar, to hurt the one person who her faction thought might actually be able to save them.

Still, as Liz had pointed out, Courtney didn't seem to care who she hurt in the process of reaching her goal.

"Maria, call Isabel. She's going to have to abandon the other me for a little while. Go with her to find Michael."

"But we don't know where Michael is," Liz protested.

At the same time, Maria said waspishly, "What? You don't think I can go by myself?"

Max rolled his eyes at Maria's stubborn words, but was not surprised by her reaction to his order. Giving the pixie blonde a somewhat exasperated look, he said, "I think having another person with powers there isn't a bad idea. After all, weren't you the one opposed to Michael visiting Courtney in the first place?"

"But that doesn't answer the question of where she is," Liz pointed out, cutting into the conversation again.

"She wants to be found," Max said thoughtfully, his mind going back to their last conversation with the rebel skin. "She wants us to come to her, so she'd be somewhere obvious. Like her apartment, or the Crashdown. Or the empty building across from this apartment," he added, gesturing towards the window, towards the outline of Courtney's hideout that was just visible across the street.

Maria still did not look happy with the idea of going to Isabel for help first, and Max had the impression that she would have preferred to take on Michael by herself. She was still clearly incensed by the fact that he had lied to her, and the thought of him with Courtney was only adding fuel to the fire. Isabel's presence might be enough of a distraction to prevent her from getting whatever revenge she had planned.

But Max knew that they were running out of time. He was running out of time, his slowly disappearing form serving as proof of that.

He did not have the patience to argue with her.

"Just call Isabel and find Michael," Max said impatiently. "I'd like to know that he is safe prior to completely fading away."

His words might not have had any impact whatsoever on Maria, but they had an impact on Liz. He saw her eyes widen as the force of his statement hit home, and felt immediately guilty for it.

He hadn't wanted to hurt her with such a blunt reminder of his soon-to-come demise.

But before he could say anything – before he could even figure out what to say – she turned away from him and said quietly to Maria, "Just do this, okay? Please?"

"Fine," Maria said, agreeing ungraciously to Max's plan. "I'll call Isabel and we will find him. You two take care of Tess." Her words were still bitter, and it was clear to Max that she was only giving in because, like him, she had heard the plea in Liz's tone and sensed the pain and desperation the brunette was feeling.

"Thank you," he said stiffly, then allowed Liz to lead him from the apartment.

In the hallway, away from Maria, she turned to him and asked, "Are you… afraid? For yourself, I mean?"

He shook his head. "No. I know I'm doing the right thing. I knew the sacrifices I would have to make, and I came to terms with them a long time ago."

Liz nodded slowly, contemplatively, and they continued on in silence.

* * *

Tess was looking through the Destiny Book, running her fingers over the strange material. She looked up as Max entered, Liz behind him. Her expression was unreadable, but she didn't seem surprised to see them.

Max turned to Liz and murmured in a low voice, "Let me talk to Tess alone, alright?"

Liz did not look pleased by the request, but she withdrew all the same, stepping back out into the desert. The door sealed shut behind her, effectively separating the two hybrids from their human friend.

Tess was the first to break the silence. "You're still here," she said, eyeing him.

He looked down at his fingers, flexing them and watching with detached amazement as they almost seemed to ripple through the air, distorting his vision of the ground below them. "You sound surprised."

She shrugged and placed the Book next to her on the ground. "I just assumed you would have disappeared by now."

"But I didn't," he answered, taking a seat next to her on the dusty floor. The cave was gloomy, and through the silence that seemed to penetrate everything, he felt, rather than heard, the hum of the Granolith behind the pods.

"Not yet," she agreed, exhaling. She wasn't looking at him, but he had the distinct impression that she was somehow still scrutinizing his expression as she asked, "Are you scared?"

When Liz had asked him that, he had lied. He'd put on a brave face and told her what she needed to hear. Because she was Liz, and he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her, of leaving her with the knowledge that he was terrified of ceasing to exist.

She would blame herself for it, somehow. Though it was in no way her fault, she would still blame herself, and she would carry that guilt around with her, letting it slowly eat away at her insides. And he loved her far too much to be the cause of her grief.

Of course, given that it was Liz, she probably also saw right through his lie.

He didn't answer Tess, and she didn't press the issue.

"You left," he said finally. "We were worried about you."

She scoffed, "Sure you were."

She rose slowly to her feet and moved away from him. He wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure what the real problem was. Underneath the disbelief that he had heard in her voice, there had been something else. But, as usual, he was unable to identify quite what it was.

He ran his hand over the floor, trying to pick up the pebbles that were scattered about. They slid through his palm and clattered softly back to the floor, and he sighed.

He didn't have time for this, didn't have time for Tess' problems. They still hadn't figured out how to save the world. Michael was confronting Courtney, and that might not end well for any of them. And, on top of all of that, if these were his last few minutes…

…he wanted to be spending them with Liz.

"You either think I am being selfish or melodramatic," Tess said, and he looked up sharply to see that she was staring at him, studying his face. "Or both," she continued, "I can't quite tell."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Is this about the flash you saw? I made a mistake, Tess, I know that. I can't excuse my behavior. I shouldn't have kissed Liz when I was married to you, and I certainly should not have been careless enough to do it in front of our son. But… I don't love you."

"I know," Tess murmured wearily. "I've figured that out already. I figured it out a while ago, actually."

Max stared at her, completely surprised by her answer. Whatever it was he had expected – defiant rebuttals and more talk of destiny, perhaps – he certainly had not foreseen that quiet, resigned reply.

"Then… then why are you…?" He couldn't even form the question. Even in his own timeline, she didn't give up on destiny quite that easily, and she certainly did not admit to knowing that he did not love her. But if she knew that, if she had known it all along… why had she continued to press for something that would only make them both miserable?

He couldn't figure out how to ask the question, but it didn't matter. He saw in her sapphire eyes that she knew exactly what he was trying to say.

"I… I don't know," she whispered.

"You don't know?" he demanded incredulously, a tiny bit of anger creeping into his voice. How could she possible defend her actions with ignorance?

"When I first came here, I thought… I thought it was supposed to work out for us. I didn't even know you, and you didn't know me, but I really, honestly, truly believed that you would fall in love with me. It was what was supposed to happen."

Max folded his arms over his chest. "Love doesn't work like that," he said furiously.

"I know. But then… it didn't seem like I could go back," Tess explained tiredly. "Do you ever get in the position where you… you can't undo anything? You're in over your head, but you just… don't see a way out of it? I thought I had to keep going down this path."

"Why?" Max pressed, flushed a deep red. He climbed to his feet, nearly shaking with pent-up emotion.

"Because…" She licked her lips and looked at him, then sighed. "Because Michael is more willing to trust Courtney than he is to trust me. Because Maria and Isabel won't give me a second chance, now that they know I end up killing Alex in the future. Because we both know that the minute you noticed I had left Michael's apartment, your first thought was that I had taken all the information I had to the skins. To Nicolas. How am I supposed to go back from that?"

Max didn't answer. He could see her point of view, and he did know what it was like to be stuck in a path he didn't like but not see any way out of it. He thought through all the different timelines he had witnessed, all the different mistakes he had made. In one future, he'd cheated on his wife. In another, he'd become a darker, angrier version of himself, someone he barely recognized. Those were not ends he had wanted, but once he'd started down that path, he hadn't figure out how to turn aside.

Telling Tess that she needed to do something that other versions of him hadn't managed… well, that really just made him a hypocrite.

But he had changed things, in the end. He'd come back in time. No matter the mistakes he had made, he'd done everything he could to change the future.

He hadn't given up and just accepted his fate. And he was not going to let Tess do that, either.

Tess continued speaking, "I thought if I told you about Nasedo's deal with the skins, if I told you that the real reason they had killed him was because they realized his true loyalties were never to them… you either wouldn't believe me, or you would think I was a traitor. Nasedo is dead, and you're the only family I've got left. I didn't want to take the chance of losing you all."

"But all you ended up doing was pushing us away," he countered.

"I know," she agreed heavily. "But I just… I didn't know what else to do. Maria hates me. Liz probably does too. You don't like me, Michael only just barely tolerates me. If it wasn't for destiny, I figured you wouldn't want to be around me and…" She stopped, shook her head, looked away. "Can you honestly tell me that we'd all be friends?"

"I don't know what we would have wanted, Tess. I don't know what would have happened. You didn't give us a chance to figure that out for ourselves." Max paused, thought through his words, then asked bluntly, "Do you want to end up as a murderer?"

Her answer was an emphatic, "_No_."

"Yeah… I didn't think so." He looked over at the door to the cave. Liz was on the other side of that stone wall, waiting for him. He knew now that there was something he needed to tell her, something that she had to know before he was gone.

But first he needed to finish things with Tess.

"I can't tell you what to do now, Tess. I can't tell you what chances are worth taking. I can't tell you how any of the others will react to you, how long it will take for us to all get along. What I can tell you is that you haven't betrayed us yet. And that means that you still have a chance at convincing everyone that you really want to be part of this group… this family. If you do that… whatever our faults, Tess, we _are_ loyal."

"Not in every timeline," she quipped, on obvious reference to his infidelity with Liz. But her expression was lighter than it had been, and he knew she didn't mean it as an accusation.

"Like I said, that was a mistake, one that I regretted for a long time afterwards," Max answered with a shrug. "I'm not saying we don't make mistakes. We do, obviously. But we are family. And we forgive each other. That's what being family means."

She nodded.

He moved towards the door, towards Liz. Before opening the entryway to the cave, however, he looked back at Tess one more time.

"This is your life. And these are your choices. No one else can make them for you. And in the end, if you don't like the path you're on, you're the only one who can get off it. It's up to you, Tess. We can help you, we can support you. We can offer advice, guidance, suggestions. But in the end… this is your battle. You have to be the one to fight it. You have to be the one to decide what you want and take that first step towards getting it."

* * *

"How'd it go?" Liz asked, looking a little disconcerted when only Max exited the cave.

He fell into step beside her as they made their way down the rock-covered ground towards her car. "Fine," he said softly, only looking over his shoulder once to see Tess standing outside the cave, watching him.

Liz looked at him, waiting for more details.

But he had something else needed to say first.

"Liz… I love you."

"Max, I…"

"No, wait," he interrupted, holding up a hand to cut her off. "I need you to listen to me, okay? I need you to hear what I am saying."

"Okay."

"I love you. I have always loved, I will always loves. Every version of me has loved you, even during the timelines where we don't get along. I made a lot of mistakes in my life – in _all_ my lives – but loving you was not one of them. I should have told you that when I first got here. I know I was not as forthcoming with details as you would have liked. I know I pulled away from you… from Isabel and Michael, also. It was because I had just lost you, and it hurt to get close again. But I should have told you this the moment I saw you because… because I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world."

He reached towards her, his hands gently cupping her fingers. He couldn't quite hold her hand, not the way he was now with his body disappearing, but he could still feel the heat of her skin and the connection that lingered between them.

She smiled at him.

"I know that you don't want me to be alone when I no longer exist. I know… I know that you are worried about me. And… I know that you knew I was lying before, when I told you that I wasn't scared. I am scared… terrified… and I know that you know that."

It was getting harder to say the words. They got caught in his throat, and he blinked rapidly to clear his teary vision and focus solely on Liz.

"I wish I could make this easier for you," Liz murmured.

"You can," Max answered firmly. "Liz… I've failed to save the world multiple times, and maybe I'll fail this time as well. But I know that one day I will succeed. I'm not giving up on this, on us. One day we will have that happily-ever-after."

"I wish for that, too," Liz agreed.

But Max shook his head. "This isn't a wish for me, Liz. This isn't something I am hoping might come to pass. This will happen. I _know_ it. I have faith in that, in us. All of us. I…" He stopped, sorted through his thoughts. He needed her to understand this. Needed her to understand _him_. "I won't be here. Very soon, I will cease to exist. And I need you to believe in this, Liz. In us. I need you to believe in the future so that, when I am gone, there will still e someone here who _knows_ that the world can be saved. And that we can be happy."

Liz swallowed and nodded. When she spoke, her words were choked and full of emotion.

Full of promise.

"I'll believe, Max."


	14. Interlude: Paradox

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: So this chapter is kind of an interlude between the first half and the second half of the story. Pay attention to the change in POV, it will be important. Also, probably a good idea to read the Author's Note at the end.

* * *

Interlude: Paradox

_Life is a paradox; you're damned if you do and damned if you don't._

_-Nancy Cartwright_

_Future Max POV…_

By the time they made it back to Michael's apartment, all the tension that had previously simmering in the air between Max and Liz had faded away. Though Max was still considered by his worries about Tess' loyalties and his own fears of disappearing, the fact that he and Liz were on better terms was enough to ease his troubled mind.

Unfortunately, the relaxed state was not to last. As Liz pushed open the door to Michael's apartment, Max found himself greeted by the sight of Michael and Maria arguing, Isabel sitting with her head buried in her hands on the edge of the sofa, and Courtney leaning against the far wall with her arms folded over her chest.

Isabel looked up at the sound of the door opening, and surprise and horror flickered quickly across her face. Max remembered with a start that she had not been here when he started fading away, and even though Alex had most likely had the foresight to warn Isabel what was happening to her brother, this would be the first glimpse she got of his translucent form.

"Oh, God…" she breathed, shaking her head. "You… you're…"

"Yeah," Max said, his gaze sliding past Isabel to Courtney. He frowned at her for a moment, then looked over at Isabel again. "I don't think I have a whole lot of time left."

"But why? What happened?" Isabel asked worriedly, rising to her feet and crossing to his side.

Max shrugged. "We knew this was going to happen," he said pointedly. "We're changing the future, remember? Making it better."

"_Trying_ to make it better," Courtney muttered under her breath. "There's no proof you've succeeded."

"Nobody asked you," Maria snapped.

Liz stepped around the two Evans siblings and moved to Maria's side. Max watched her for a moment as she placed a hand on Maria's arm in a calmingly reassuring gesture. Then he lifted his gaze back to Isabel and said, "Don't worry. It will be fine."

"The other you is suspicious. He's asking questions, and I don't… I don't know what to tell him." Isabel gave an almost bitter chuckle and ran a hand through her hair. "I doubt he'd even believe me if I told him everything that happened."

Max didn't answer. He, too, had his doubts about how much of this his past-self would believe. But Isabel was already so clearly distraught that admitting to his own vague fears seemed like a bad idea.

"Where's Tess?" Maria asked abruptly, staring past Max at the door as though she expected it to open any minute.

Max hesitated, unsure exactly what to say, how to explain the conversation that had passed between the two of them. He couldn't really go into the details of it, not without Tess present. And, anyway, it was more her story to tell. She had to be the one to decide what to say to the others.

"She still at the pod chamber," he said finally, giving a shrug. "I think she needs to… contemplate a few things first. She'll be back eventually."

"With or without the skins?" Maria demanded.

Max didn't answer. He didn't think she would betray them. This Tess seemed too… honest. The Tess that had betrayed them had been colder, more duplicitous. He wasn't sure when that had happened, or why. Tess herself seemed not to understand how she could have become a traitor. And yet, he knew how circumstances could change a person. He had watched himself become almost unrecognizable in at least two of the other timelines, changed because of events that had set him down the wrong path.

But he felt reasonably confidant that they could trust her now.

He wouldn't have left her alone with the Granolith otherwise.

"You left her alone?" Courtney hissed incredulously.

"I trust her," Max replied defensively, eyeing the rebel skin. "Why do you even care?"

"You trust a lot of people, Max," Courtney answered, shaking her head. "They still make mistakes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Maria asked sharply, stepping forward until she was directly in front of the skin. Hands on her hips and eyes blazing, the abrasively blunt blonde continued, "You think you're somehow perfect and the rest of us are all flawed?"

"It's remarkable how incredibly self-centered you all manage to be some times," Courtney answered, refusing to be intimidated by Maria's anger. "And how increasingly blind. How do you not see the obvious?"

"What are you talking about?" Max asked.

"Every time you came back, you talked to one person. Usually Liz, occasionally Tess. Every time you put the burden of saving the world on one person. And every time, you fail." Courtney explained, her tone indicating how little patience she had for them. And how little she thought of all of them, as they apparently could not figure this out for themselves.

"We _know_ that," Max said, his own patience wearing thin.

"But you still don't _get_ it," Courtney huffed. "How many times does Isabel die because she tries to take on Khivar by herself? And what about Kyle? He nearly pulls the group apart when he makes a deal with the FBI by himself, even if he was only trying to keep his daughter safe. Max leads the FBI to the group when he goes – by himself – to confront Kyle about this supposed betrayal. Tess nearly destroys the group when she decides to move to Seattle without telling anyone that she's back on Earth, when she leaves the group after a fight and moves to New York, when she gets Alex to translate the Destiny Book without letting anyone else know what she is doing. Liz _does_ ruin everything when she decides to go to boarding school without consulting anyone."

Max stared at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Michael scratching an eyebrow with a bewildered expression and Isabel shivering against the onslaught of Courtney's words.

But Courtney wasn't done. "And do you want to know why you keep failing? You're a _group_. If you want to include humans, fine. Go ahead. But that doesn't make you any less of a unit. You can't win without working together. You aren't strong enough to take on Khivar and all his skins, to stop a bloody civil war, unless you do it as a team! My God, how do you not _see_ that?"

"Look, I don't know how they do things where you come from," Maria said coolly, "but here in America we don't have to consult every single person we know before making a decision."

"You certainly do in the military. You do in a war. There is a chain of command, and no one makes a decision unilaterally," Courtney answered just as coldly.

"This isn't a…"

"Isn't what, Maria? Isn't a war? Do you really believe that? Stop thinking of yourselves as normal rebellious teenagers. Stop thinking of yourselves as in complete control of your own destiny. You _aren't_, not any more. You might not want to be fighting this war, but Khivar isn't going to care about that. He isn't going to care about any of your desires. He wants you dead, and he will not stop until he succeeds. You can run and you can hide, but he will _never_ stop looking for you. Do you understand that?"

Max folded his arms over his chest. He was annoyed by Courtney's tone, by the way she was treating them as though they were all children incapable of understanding anything. But… he also found himself reluctantly accepting the simple truth that she was also probably right.

He had limited memories, but it was enough to tell him that every time they had ever had even the slightest victory over the skins, they had been working together. Every time he or anyone else had tried to deal with a problem on their own – a serious problem, and not just something minor – it had ended up causing a lot of damage.

"It doesn't take two people to start a war," Courtney said softly, looking around the room. "It only takes one person. And right now, that one person is Khivar." She leaned back against the wall, her words coming more slowly now, as though she was thinking carefully about everything she wanted to say. "You only have two ways to end this war. You can either defeat Khivar, or you can let him defeat you. There is no other option."

"That's depressing," Isabel murmured.

Courtney's smile was bitter and ironic as she nodded. "Isn't it?" Gesturing towards Max, she continued, "You want to know why he's fading away? What it is that he's changed? He's told all of you. He's placed the burden of saving the world on all your shoulders, not just one person's. That's a start… but unless you start acting like a team, it won't be enough."

She walked past all of them, pausing for a moment at the door to look at Max. Her gaze was scrutinizing, and Max couldn't help but wonder what she saw.

Then she said, "Good luck," and walked out the door, leaving the apartment in silence.

There wasn't much to say after Courtney left, and Max was too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice anything else. He was dimly aware of Isabel leaving, claiming she needed to return to her house to keep an eye on the present version of Max. He doubted that was the real reason, though he didn't call her on it. But he knew Isabel well enough to know that she just wanted to be alone right now.

She always did prefer dealing with emotional turmoil on her own.

But if Courtney was right, that was a trend that had to stop, or he'd end up where he started, and Isabel would still die.

A few minutes later the phone rang, and after a short conversation, Michael turned to tell the others that Tess had returned to the Valentis' house, and Kyle and Jim were going to stay with her.

Max accepted the news with a weary sigh and continued to stare moodily ahead, seeing nothing, wondering if they could save the future.

But not everyone wanted to stay quiet.

"Do you think she's right?"

Max shrugged, not much of an answer.

"Groups can make bad decisions," Michael continued thoughtfully. "It's not just an individual's trait."

Max answered with a wry nod of his head. "I know." They'd made bad decisions in the past, all of them. Separate and as a group.

He looked over at Liz and Maria. They were talking, and Alex had disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, probably to get a glass of water.

"I don't know why I ever though I had to put this burden solely on Liz," Max said after a moment of silence. Or Tess I don't know why I couldn't ever figure out what Courtney realized so quickly."

"Sometimes you need someone on the outside to tell you the truth. Sometimes you can't see the answers because you're too wrapped up in everything."

Max licked his lips and let his mind wander back to his first few moments here, in this time, and added, "I don't know why Liz never told me."

"Never told you what?"

"That we'd done this before," Max answered gravely. "I visited her in the past. Well, a different me. A future me. But she never explained that. She never once told me… even when we came up with this plan, even when we were discussing all the possible ways we could save the future by changing the past… she didn't mention it. Any of it."

Michael was quiet as he contemplated this, then he said, "She was probably just trying to protect you. Maybe she thought if you knew that you had failed at this once, you'd lose hope. So she lied to keep you strong. It's a very Parker thing to do."

Max couldn't help but laugh at the droll tone that accompanied that final comment. Then he sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. "I was supposed to go to Liz. That was the plan. But I went to Isabel instead. I don't know why I did, but… if I hadn't, we would never have gotten this far. Because I would tell Liz that this needed to be kept a secret and she wouldn't tell anyone and… and we'd just end up repeating everything all over again."

"Guess it's a good thing you went to Izzy, then. "

Max nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess. She's the one who dragged me here, made me face everyone."

"Is it… difficult?"

Max nodded again. There was no way he could possibly find the words to convey just how difficult it had been to see all the people that he had loved. All the people that he had lost.

Michael didn't push the issue. In that sense, he was so completely different from Isabel, Maria, and Liz. He was content to leave things unexplained because sometimes words were simply superfluous.

Instead, he said, "You know, Courtney left out one rather important factor." Max looked at him, eyebrow raised, and he continued, "We're still going to make mistakes. Even if we make less of them, we will make them. Together. As a group, And she's ignoring the fact that if our success can be that much greater as a group, so can our failures."

Max couldn't argue that point, so instead he said softly, "That's a risk we'll have to take, then."

Michael folded his arms over his chest and lifted his chin defiantly, as though to challenge him, as though to ask why anyone would be willing to take that risk.

"Either way, it's risky. This is a war, though, so the risk isn't unexpected. And I'd rather try and fail than not try and wonder what would have happened."

"I'd rather just not fail," Michael said bluntly.

Max grinned. "Yeah. Well, there is that…"

Michael gave him a shrewd look, then said, "You're very different from this time's version of you. He's more of a… well, he'd rather…"

"Wait and see? Play it safe? Stay hidden and hope things blow over?" Max shook his head. "People change, Michael."

Michael nodded slowly, a little reluctantly. "Yeah…"

They lapsed into a momentary silence.

"Parker looks happy."

Max glanced over at Liz. She was smiling as she talked to Maria, a faint glow warming her cheeks. She wasn't looking at Max, but every now and then she would turn her head and he'd catch sight of her eyes, sparkling with hope.

"So… you never outgrow the creepy stalker phase, do you?" Michael pressed.

Max grinned and turned his focus to Michael. "Guess not," he agreed. Even though he knew he only had a short amount of time left, everything felt so much easier, so much lighter, now that he knew Liz believed in their future.

Even Michael's grouchily mocking words had no effect on him. He didn't care if he was labeled as a stalker. He was perfectly content to take Michael's insults if it meant being able to stare at Liz.

"Great. So I have to deal with your pathetically sickening love-struck behavior in the future, too," Michael muttered, scratching his eyebrow absently.

Max shrugged. Then he looked over at Maria. She was pulling idly at a few strands of blonde hair, and her expression was clouded and suspicious as she studied Liz. She seemed to notice a change in Liz, because she said something that caused the brunette to flush deeply and started gesturing frantically with her hands, a sure sign that she was embarrassed.

Even Maria could tell that the tension between Max and Liz was finally gone.

"So… you and Maria… that relationship going anywhere, yet?" Max asked in a would-be casual voice.

Michael's expression soured even further. "It isn't going anywhere at all, Maxwell," he said firmly.

"You love her," Max protested, his words blunt and to the point.

Michael shrugged. "Too much to put her in danger," he argued. Max opened his mouth to protest, but Michael pushed on, raising his voice just enough to prevent Max from interrupting, while still keeping it quiet enough so that the three humans couldn't hear him. "No, Max. You're not going to talk me out of this. I am too dangerous for Maria to be around."

"You're with her in every single timeline," Max said softly, looking down at his translucent hands. Michael was one of his best friends, was the closest thing to a brother he would ever have. But that did not stop him from occasionally wanting to physically knock some sense into the stoic and taciturn hybrid.

He was not with Liz in every timeline. He loved her, always. She was his soul mate, she was the only person he could even imagine wanting. She was everything to him. And yet, despite all that, despite their nearly epic love, despite his determination and her promises, they had not ended up together. Not in every timeline.

There was very little he wouldn't willingly sacrifice for Liz. And even that had not always been enough.

And Michael… Michael, who did always get the girl he wanted, who did always end up with the love of _his_ life, who was always given the opportunity to be with his soul mate… Michael was willing to throw that all away.

It made Max furious.

He sighed heavily and said again, "You end up with her. Always."

Michael gave Max an unreadable look, then said simply, "And she dies. Always."

"That wasn't your fault," Max murmured quietly. It hadn't been Michael's fault, not in any timeline. In fact, if anyone had proven to be a danger to Maria, it was Liz. Every time Maria died, she was protecting Liz. Every time the pixie blonde was killed, she still somehow managed to save Liz's life.

But it wasn't Liz's fault, either. It wasn't any of their faults, not really. If only Michael could understand that…

"And it wasn't even the same people that kill her in each timeline. Some times it was the skins. Some times a different faction of aliens. Some times rebel humans," Michael continued, no longer looking at Max. He was staring instead at Maria, who seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that she was the topic of such a heated conversation. "I wouldn't even know what to protect her from, not when there are so many enemies."

Max didn't answer.

"What was it like when she died?" Michael question suddenly.

"Michael, when Maria died… you changed. You changed until you were someone I barely recognized, and I know you better than pretty much anyone else here. It was… difficult. Painful to see…" He trailed off for a moment, knowing that he couldn't explain what he wanted to say. Michael would never fully understand what it was like for him to be a healer, and yet now have the power to help his friends when they needed healing the most. If he had been able to mend Michael's heart after Maria's death, he would have done it. But he couldn't… he didn't have that power.

None of them did.

"We might be able to save her," Max said, rising to his feet. "I can't promise that… I won't make promises I can't keep. But we still have a chance."

"And I might still lose her," Michael said.

Max folded his arms over his chest. "If you walk away from her now, you'll lose her as well." He looked over at Maria, watching as she continued to talk to Liz, then added, "And you'll end up hurting her."

"I'd rather have her alive and hurt then dead and happy," Michael defended himself.

Max gave him a shrewd look. "If the situation was reversed, if you were the one who kept dying, would you rather have a few happy years with Maria before your death or a lifetime of being separated from the person you love?"

Michael didn't answer, but he didn't have to. They both knew the answer he would have given, had it been his choice.

"What do you think Maria wants?"

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Do you think you know Maria's preferences better than I do?"

Max smiled faintly and said, "Sometimes you need someone else to point out the obvious truth to you, Michael. Sometimes you can't see the answers because you're too wrapped up in everything."

* * *

_Future Max POV…_

He was alone when it happened.

He'd slipped into Michael's bedroom for a moment to escape the sounds of Michael and Maria bickering. Alex had left, claiming that if he didn't return home his parents might actually ground him. Liz was still there, but she was far more patient than he was, and the continual arguing did not seem to bother her quite as much.

He felt the churning sensation in his stomach, the weightless feeling as the ground seemed to suddenly fall away from him, and then he was dizzy and lightheaded. The colors in front of him blurred…

And then he was gone.

He was alone when it happened, when he finally ceased to exist. But, surprisingly, it did not bother him as much as he thought it would. This wasn't his time, and these people weren't the family he remembered, not yet. And anyway, he would be alone in the end, even if they were here with him, because he was going somewhere they couldn't follow.

But maybe his own Liz would be waiting for him on the other side.

* * *

_Present Max POV…_

He knew better.

Isabel was spouting some list of lies, a twisted story that didn't make sense and had far too many holes in it, and he knew. He knew that his sister was keeping something from him, had been keeping something from him for a while. The feeling had started after they'd rescued Tess from Whitaker, but it had intensified over the past two days until he could no longer ignore it.

What was worse was that now Michael was lying to him as well.

He'd been fooled at first by the story about nightmares. Michael had come charging into his room, worried he was in danger, and he had actually semi-believed his friend's claim that he had just had a bad dream.

But he knew better now.

Something was happening now, and he was determined to figure out what it was.

Isabel had just gotten home and was downstairs talking to their parents. He didn't know what was going to happen, but he did know that as soon as Isabel made it up those stairs, she'd try to keep an eye on him like she had been doing for the past several hours.

He didn't want her suffocating presence. He wanted answers, and he wasn't going to get them from her.

Grabbing his coat and car keys, he made a decision.

Which was how he ended up climbing out of his window and scrambling across the lawn towards the car, hoping to avoid detection. Luck was apparently on his side, because no one seemed to notice as he slid into the car and turned it on, then pulled out into the street.

Whatever was happening, he did know that his sister had spent a lot of time at Michael's apartment over the past two days. The answers had to be there, and he was going to find them.

Already, a thousand horrible scenarios were running through his mind. Had something happened to Isabel? Is that why she was acting so jumpy and awkward around him? But why would she go to Michael instead of him? Why would she ever think that Michael could offer something he couldn't?

Unbidden, thoughts of Destiny rose in his mind. Surely Michael and Isabel hadn't… No, he forcefully pushed that idea aside. That simply wasn't possible. Whatever it was, it had to be something different.

Were they in some kind of danger? Were they not telling him because they were afraid for him? Were they trying to protect him?

Or were they afraid _of_ him? Were they trying to protect themselves?

None of it made sense. But his worry had long since turned into a gnawing fear, and that fear would not leave him alone.

He reached Michael's building and raced up the stairs to the apartment, ready for anything.

Well, almost anything.

As he flung the door open, he found Michael and Maria standing in the center of the room, arguing. Maria had her hands on her hips and her face was flushed, and Michael was glaring at her defiantly, obviously furious as well. Liz and Alex were standing on the other side of the room, near the window. Alex was watching the argument with some concern, but Liz had her eyes fixed on the door to Michael's bedroom.

The entire scene might not have been so strange, but everyone froze when the door opened, and all four pairs of eyes fixed on him in a strange sort of confusion and alarm.

"Ma-Max," Liz stammered, apparently the first to find her voice, "what are you doing here?"

He was surprisingly hurt by the tone of her voice, by the suspicion and apprehension. Was she _afraid_ of him? After all this time… how was that even possible?

"What's going on?" he asked, his words sharper than he had intended. He saw Liz flinch, saw her gaze flicker to the door leading towards Michael's bedroom. He wondered what was behind that door, wondered what his friends had gotten themselves into now.

Were they in trouble?

"Nothing is going on," Maria said in what was clearly a valiant attempt at acting normal. She didn't quite succeed, though she did manage to throw an impressive glower at Michael as she added, "Space Boy here is just being an idiot."

He might have believed her words, but Liz was still nervous and even Alex looked apprehensive, and he knew _something_ was happening.

"Look," he said, trying to sound reasonable, "if something is wrong, just tell me."

"Nothing's wrong, Maxwell," Michael said shortly.

Max rolled his eyes. "You're lying. You and Isabel…" he looked at Maria for a moment, then over to Liz and Alex. "Is everyone in on this? Does everyone else know what is going on? Everyone besides me?"

It wouldn't have bothered him as much if it was just Michael and Isabel. Or even Michael, Isabel, and Liz. But Maria? Alex? What was going on, and why were all of them trusted with it when he wasn't? Did Tess know also? Kyle and Valenti? Was everyone involved in this secret?

He tensed, clenching his hands into fists and then releasing them. He drew a slow breath, trying to will away the frustration and fear that continued to solidify in the pit of his stomach.

"Max, nothing is going on," Liz said, moving towards him. She stopped in front of him, taking his hands in her own. "Trust me. We would tell you if something was happening."

He swallowed. He wanted to trust Liz, he really did. It was _Liz_, after all. He loved her, loved her more than he could ever really express. And at almost any other point during the past year, he would have happily believed anything she said, accepted it as the truth simply because she said it.

But why was his gut telling him not to believe her? Why were his instincts screaming at him, informing him over and over that Liz was lying?

She looked again at the door to Michael's bedroom. A quick glance, so fast that Max almost missed it.

But behind Liz, Alex had turned his attention fully to the door, as though contemplating something, and even Maria was slanting quick looks in that direction.

Without thinking, without pausing to contemplate the impulse, he pulled his hands out of Liz's grip and walked past her to the door of the bedroom, throwing it open.

"Max, no!"

"Maxwell, wait!"

"Don't…!"

The three cries of alarm and Alex's intake of breath were enough to tell Max that he had been right about his suspicions, but when he yanked open the door, the room was empty.

The other four seemed completely stunned, and Liz rushed past him into the room, looking around frantically.

"He's not here!" she said, breathless and distraught.

"Who?" Max demanded harshly, but Liz didn't answer.

Then the world tipped on its axis and he was suddenly thrown into a memory of something he had never witnessed, of an event he had not experienced… and yet one that felt so real…

_The Granolith was a cone-shaped source of energy that vibrated and hummed like neon lights. Max stood before it, hesitating for one moment as he thought over everything that he was about to do, everything he would irrevocably change. Then he met Liz's gaze and felt his heart stiffen with determination._

_And he plunged the crystal activator into the metal core, watching as a stream of blue erupted into the air above them, creating a vibrating inverted pyramid of iridescent light._

"_Max…"_

_He turned back to Liz. He could see the tears pooling in her dark brown eyes, and knew that this was goodbye. Tentatively, he reached out towards her, linking his fingers through hers as their hands touched._

_Finally, he managed a hoarse, "I love you."_

_She smiled back. "I don't regret a single moment of this," she answered._

_He reached up and placed his hand against the cool swirl of energy. It absorbed him, pulling him apart, scattering his essence into a million particles, then reassembling him within the energy. He did not feel pain, although he knew the process must have hurt him somehow. But nothing seemed to matter much anymore, and through the vibrating iridescent energy, he could see Liz looking up at him._

"_I love you," he whispered, his words caught in the hum of the Granolith._

_He reached out his hand towards her, and she lifted her own towards him. But the world began to fade around him, and Liz stumbled and fell to the ground. The last image he saw was the pod chamber crumbling around her still body and then…_

_Nothing._

"Max? Yo, Maxwell? You still with us?"

Max tore his gaze away from the fading vision, and looked at Michael. "I… yeah…"

Alex was wandering around the room, apparently still looking for something, and Maria was gazing about with a stunned expression on her face, her mouth open and her eyes wide. Liz looked close to tears, obviously upset about something, and he had the strongest urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything would be alright.

Instead, he continued to stare at Michael, bewildered by what he had just seen.

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"I… saw…" he shook his head, unable to figure out what he had witnessed. He blinked and rubbed his eyes with one hand, then asked, "Who was here? Who was in this room and where is he now?"

Michael didn't answer, but surprisingly, it was Alex who spoke up. "We should tell him. If… if the other one is gone… there's no reason not to, is there?"

"The other one? Who is the other one? The other one of _what_?"

"I'll tell him," Liz murmured wearily, running a hand through her hair. "Michael, you should tell Isabel and Tess that… that he's gone. They should know. And Kyle and the Sheriff also."

Max inhaled sharply. So everyone else did seem to know what was happening. He was the only one left in the dark.

And yet, strangely, he felt no anger at this final revelation, this confirmation of the truth behind his previous worry. Instead, his apprehension was focused on what he was about to learn, because some sixth sense was telling him that he wasn't going to like it.

"You sure you want to be the one to tell him?" Maria asked in a low whisper to Liz, but Max still managed to catch every word. "I mean, you could make Space Boy do it. If it's easier for you."

Max was surprised to see that Michael didn't object to that. Though he was clearly not thrilled by Maria's apparent desire to put Liz's feelings over his own, he still seemed willing to be the one to explain what was happening.

But Liz shook her head. "No. No, I should be the one to tell him."

"Tell me what?" Max asked, feeling the dread grow within him.

Liz came to his side and placed her hand on his arm. "Why don't we sit down? We… um… we need to talk."

* * *

Author's note: Alright, so here's the deal. Future Max is gone, so now we turn out attention to Present Max. The rest of the story is going to be told from his point of view. But it's going to be a bit different from the first half of the story.

The first half has taken place over the course of two days. The rest of the story is going to move at a much faster pace. I'm going to take specific events from this timeline (starting with mid-Season Two and moving forward into the future), and we're going to see if the pod squad can save the world this time, see if maybe they've learned something from their mistakes in the other timelines. So… same number of chapters for this half, but we're probably going to cover several years in their lives.


	15. The First Dimension II: Length

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Alright, so the rest of the story is told from Present Max's point of view. This chapter takes place a week after the last one ended, and deals with how much the groups has told Max about his future counterpart's visit… and how much they haven't.

* * *

The First Dimension: Length

"_The value of life is not in the length of days, but in the use we make of them."_

_-Michel de Montaigne_

_One week later…_

Max rubbed his eyes wearily and stared blankly at the television screen. He knew he should be focusing on the news, but his thoughts had been all over the place. Since Liz's explanation of what had happened the prior week, he hadn't been able to think of anything else.

He stared down at his own hands, feeling the same bitterness welling in his stomach. He just didn't know how to respond to this, to the fact that his friends had conspired to keep everything a secret for those two days. Sure, they had told him eventually. But not until the supposed Future Max was gone. Not until they had already confronted Courtney. Not until they had already discussed Nasedo's dealings with Nicolas and Whitaker's attack. Not until they had made their own decisions on what to do next. And they just expected him to go along with it, without ever giving him the chance to add in his own opinion.

How could they ask him to trust them, to follow their lead and agree to their decisions, when they had been so unwilling to trust him?

"We have this story just in. A controversial New Mexico congresswoman is dead. We'll have that story in just a minute."

Max snapped his gaze to the television, surprise pushing all other thoughts away.

"Widowed just 6 months before her husband John Whitaker's upcoming election, she took his place on the ballot and won the election by a higher margin than any Democrat in 15 years. But all that ended yesterday, just outside her hometown of Copper Summit, Arizona, where a tragic single-car accident cut short a life of public service. In other national news, the Department of Transportation…"

He narrowed his eyes in confusion, one hand reaching automatically for the phone. His instinct, as always, was to call Liz. But he paused, his fingers hovering just over the phone, before he pulled back and instead grabbed the remote and turned off the television.

Neither of his parents were home, and Isabel was still out with her friends. He knew Liz was working at Congresswoman Whitaker's office that afternoon, and just a week ago, that would have been enough incentive for him to spend his afternoon there. Particularly since the Congresswoman was no longer around to demand that she actually do real work.

But he hadn't quite been able to bring himself to spend time with Liz. Not now.

Still, this wasn't something he could ignore. He might have been the only person to watch this particular news report, which meant the others might not now. He had to tell them.

He groaned and rose to his feet. He didn't want to see them right now… but what other choice did he have?

* * *

Tess was the first to speak. "A car crash?" she asked skeptically, giving Max a frown.

He shrugged, leaning back against the sofa. They were at Michael's apartment, just the four of them. He hadn't called Liz, and if Michael or Isabel thought that his refusal to include her was unusual, they didn't comment on it. But he could practically feel the concern dripping from Isabel's gaze, and he refused to meet her eyes. He didn't want to know what she thought, didn't want to give her a chance to ask the questions he wasn't ready to answer.

"She died two weeks ago," Isabel said finally, her voice a little hoarse. "I was there."

"We're were all there," Max said as rubbed his hands together and thought idly that Isabel had left off the most important part of that statement – that she'd been the one to actually kill Whitkaer. There were no way that the Congresswoman could have died in a car crash, not when they'd all seen her body turn into dust.

It appeared as though Michael, too, was thinking along those same lines because he said, "How could she be in a car accident if she's dust?"

But it was Tess who asked the most relevant question, her expression grim and troubled. "So who's conveniently covering up her death for us?"

Max narrowed his eyes. "Didn't Max of the Future have any warnings to give?" he asked, his words snide. He knew it sounded petty, and he inwardly groaned at that, but he simply did not have the ability to keep the bitterness out of his tone. Not right now, anyway.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michael and Isabel exchanged a look. Isabel's was apologetic and worried, but Michael just looked exasperated.

"Um… he didn't really give a whole lot of details," Isabel said warily.

"Well, then what's the point of him visiting?" Max muttered under his breath. He looked away from them, his gaze landing for a moment on Tess. She stared back, her face blank and unreadable, and he rubbed his eyes with one hand and dropped his gaze to the floor.

He was a little surprised by the change in her behavior. She seemed to be creating distance in between them, pulling away. A week ago, he would have welcomed the change because his heart belonged so fully with Liz. But now it served as just another reminder of the fact that everyone had been profoundly affected by this supposed visit… except him.

Tess shuffled her feet on the floor, shifting her weight.

The silence was tense.

Then Isabel remarked, "Nasedo said the skins were among us. Skins, plural. And Future Max mentioned that also, that we were fighting an entire army and not just a few random enemies."

"So maybe other skins created a fake car accident to keep the Feds from looking too closely into Whitkaer's background," Michael agreed with a nod.

Isabel chewed her lip and looked at Max as though waiting for him to make a suggestion.

He knew the suggestion he should make. They needed access to Whitaker's files, they needed to look through her correspondence to see if there was anyone she had been communicating with on a regular basis. The cover story they had used for the past two weeks was that she was on vacation, but someone had obviously seen through it. Perhaps they would find a clue in her office, something that could lead them in the direction of the other skins.

And the only one who had access to the Congresswoman's files was Liz.

So that was the suggestion he should make. Talk to Liz. Convince Liz to let them into her office. Have Liz help them look through her belongings.

He stared back at Isabel and said nothing.

"Look, we know Courtney is a skin," Michael suggested finally, breaking the uneasy silence that had fallen. "Why don't we talk to her? She might know something."

"I thought she wasn't working with the Congresswoman," Max countered.

"She's not," Tess agreed. "But Michael's right, she still might know something."

Max gave her a blank stare, stunned and a little annoyed by her answer. He had expected her to take his side, to defend his ideas, because that was what she had always done in the past. Her lack of support didn't particularly bother him at the moment, given that he hadn't even suggested an idea yet, but it was still disconcerting.

And by the look on Michael's face, Max knew he wasn't the only one taken aback by what she had said.

The hybrid General inclined his head in her direction, then said, "Alright, so Tess and I agree. I should talk to Courtney. Izzy, what do you think?"

Isabel looked back and forth between her best friend and her brother. She chewed her lip, the internal debate obvious in her eyes. And the struggle apparently had no satisfying end for her, because she said after a pause, "I don't know. Max? What do you think?"

Max rose to his feet and offered a shrug. "Do whatever you want," he said, his words aimed mostly at Michael.

Then he walked from the apartment.

As the door swung shut behind him, he heard Michael mutter, "When is he going to stop acting like a spoiled child?"

He leaned against the wall of the hallway for a moment and closed his eyes. Then, in a soft whisper, he answered to himself, "And if the situation was reversed, Michael, and you had been the one left out of the loop… how would you be acting?"

He had no way of knowing that, on the other side of that shut door, Tess had just asked Michael the very same question.

* * *

It didn't take a whole lot to break into Whitaker's office. Security was lax, given that this was Roswell, New Mexico and no one expected much in the way of real crime. Anything that would not give way under simple force was dealt with by a quick wave of his hand.

Alien powers were good for this sort of thing.

He didn't really know where to start first. The office was silent and dark, shadows lining the walls and slipping out across the floor into the center of the room. The desk was organized, as were the shelves on one end of the wall. No doubt Liz's doing, Max decided as he gazed around. Who else would go to all the trouble of keeping an office organized for a Congresswoman who had been gone for two weeks?

There was a pile of letters in a box on the end of her desk. He grabbed a few and sifted through them. It looked like mostly junk mail - solicitations and flyers and credit card offers. But one letter caught his eye and he frowned at it, surprised and confused.

"The Universal Friendship League," he murmured, rolling his tongue over the words. The title just sounded creepy, like the name of some enigmatic cult. He had a momentary mental image of several people dressed in long, flowing shirts and ripped jeans, wearing wreaths and garlands of flowers and singing about world peace.

He ran his hand along the return address, frowning. Copper Summit. No one had mentioned anything about it to him, but that didn't necessarily mean it wasn't familiar to them. Had his future counterpart mentioned it? He couldn't quite prevent the antagonistic thought that perhaps his friends had simply _forgotten_ to tell him.

He opened the envelope and read the letter carefully.

_Dear member: Your failure to report as scheduled violates protocol. We must receive word by the 25th of this month or terminate your membership, effective that date._

Max blinked thoughtfully. The 25th was yesterday, the day the Congresswoman had supposedly died in the car accident. Obviously, there had to be some connection. Could the members of the Universal Friendship League, upon not hearing from her by the requested time, have decided that she was dead?

He glanced at the signature.

_Sincerely, T. Greer, senior coordinator, Vilandra project._

The Vilandra Project… that did sound familiar. Isabel had mentioned something about her past life, about her name being Vilandra. About how she had fallen in love with the enemy and betrayed them all.

That had been an awkward conversation. Liz had been sitting at Max's side, holding his hand as though trying to provide some sort of comfort, of support. He'd long since given up caring, though, and was only dimly aware of her skin pressing against his own.

Michael had been pacing, his steps loud and worried. The repetitive noise had started to give Max a headache, or possibly it was only that it had compounded the headache he already had. His anger had already started bubbling at that point, reminding him in its insidious way that he had been left out of the loop, left in the dark. And so everything the others did, from the gentle squeeze of Liz's hand to the way Michael folded his arms over his chest, had started to annoy Max.

Isabel had been looking at him with those wide, tearful eyes. She'd been waiting for something – probably for him to say that it didn't matter, that it was in the past, that he still loved her and trusted her – and he had simply stared back. She'd told him her secret, told him a truth that he knew must have been painful for her to hear, to accept…

In the end, all he had managed to do was shrug his shoulders and say, "Oh. Okay."

He stared back at the letter, ruthlessly shoving away his memories of that conversation, or Isabel's hurt expression as she pulled away from him, surprised by his indifference. Instead he reached towards the phone, his own expression thoughtful.

He dialed the number given on the letter, and was not surprised when a gruff voice answered, "Yes?"

"Hi, um… is this the Universal Friendship League?" Max asked.

"Who is this?" was the sharp reply.

"I'm calling from Congresswoman Vanessa Whitaker's office," Max explained quickly, his fingers tightening around the phone until his knuckles turned white. "I just… um… opened this letter this morning and… I wanted to call and apologize for not responding sooner."

Again, he was not surprised when his statement was met with a simple, abrupt, "Yes?"

But perhaps he should have been, Max reflected as he glanced at the clock and noted that it was well after midnight. He wondered if the man at the other end of the line was trying to figure out why someone would still be working so late.

At that thought, he sighed inwardly and thought to himself that it was quite strange that his phone call had even been answered. Had someone been sitting by the phone, just waiting for this call?

"We just wanted to let you know that, unfortunately, the Congresswoman has passed away," Max said delicately.

There was a pause, then the other man said, "Thank you for calling," and hung up the phone.

Max stared at the phone, a bit taken aback by the abrupt end to the conversation, then replaced it on the receiver. He knew he would need to speak to the others, to discuss their next plan of action. But that could wait until tomorrow.

He pocketed the letter and slipped silently from the office.

* * *

Surprisingly, the first person Max saw when he arrived at school the next morning – with the obvious exception of Isabel who had ridden in the car with him – was Tess. The blonde was at her locker, and she looked up as Max turned the corner and nearly ran into her.

She shifted her bag to one shoulder and gave him an empty smile. "Hi, Max."

"Hey, Tess," he answered. She looked around, as though perhaps expecting to see Isabel or Michael, and he said by way of explanation, "Isabel went to find Alex."

"Ah… yes," Tess said, her tone ironic. "That relationship seems to be getting serious quite quickly. I thought Isabel wasn't ready for a relationship." She paused, titling her head to the side, and added, "Or that she was dating that archeologist. I guess things changed rather quickly."

Max studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Hey, can you meet at lunch? In the gym, it should be relatively empty. I need to talk to the three of you."

"Sure," Tess said with a bored shrug. She turned back to her locker, apparently done with the conversation, and he allowed the tide of students to sweep him away towards his own classroom.

Still, Tess had given him something to think about. Isabel's sudden change could only be attributed to something that had happened over the past weekend. Liz had told him that Alex had died early in many of the timelines, though she had left out the exact details. He thought she might be hiding something from him, but he hadn't managed to figure out what it was and he wasn't sure he really wanted to press for answers.

But maybe he needed them now. Tess was right, Isabel _had_ changed, and he wanted to know why. Was it simply knowledge of Alex's death that had caused her to cling to him so fiercely, as though afraid he would disappear at any moment? Or was there something else, something he hadn't been told?

He was still dwelling on these thoughts when he finally made it to class and found himself standing opposite Liz. They were both paused outside the door of the room, Liz with one hand resting on the wall as though she had been waiting for him. Her brown eyes fixed on his face, her eyebrows knit together with worry.

He forced a smile. "Hello, Liz," he said, and he had the feeling that his words sounded far more bitter and angry than he had intended. She stepped back, hurt flashing across her features, and he said quickly, and it a gentle tone, "How's it going?"

Her frown deepened as she replied, "I was going to ask you the same thing." She reached out to catch him arm, pulling him closer as she lowered her voice, "Maria said that Alex told her that Isabel said that…"

"What?" Max demanded, interrupting Liz's growing list of names.

Liz dropped his arm and looked around to make sure they would not be overheard, then said, "Whitaker died in a car accident last night. At least that is what the press is saying."

Max nodded blankly. "Yeah. So?"

Liz let out a breath of frustration. "Max, please don't do this," she murmured, practically begging. "Don't shut me out. _Please_." He could hear the genuine love and guilt in her voice, and felt a slight amount of his own remorse for upsetting her. It hadn't been his intention, ever, but he couldn't help the way he felt.

It was obvious that Liz, too, felt bad about what had happened, about having to lie to him for two days. She'd apologized – they'd all apologized – and he'd said that he forgave them. Empty words, he knew. But he didn't _want_ to be angry at them, at her. It had just happened, and he didn't know how to stop it.

"You talked to Michael and Isabel. And Tess. Why didn't you talk to the rest of us about it? Maria and I. And Alex. We could have helped, we could have…"

"Could have what?" Max asked pointedly, one eyebrow lifted. "We don't _know_ anything. We don't have a plan…"

"Michael wants to meet with Courtney," Liz countered. "That's a plan, isn't it? And he shouldn't go alone."

"He can pick anyone he wants to go with him," Max said sourly. "I won't stop him." He didn't really care about Courtney, though he had been certainly a little startled and apprehensive to discover that she was a skin. But the revelations about her true identity soon faded into the background as he grappled with everything else he had learned, and Michael at least seemed to think that she was trustworthy.

So if Michael wanted to talk to the blonde skin, that was fine. Maybe they would learn something useful. Maybe they wouldn't. Max had no invested interested in either outcome.

He was more curious about the Universal Friendship League and Copper Summit.

"Max?" Liz pressed. "Come on, talk to me." Her brown eyes were filled with tears that hadn't yet fallen. Her lower lip trembled slightly, and her arms were wrapped tightly around herself as though in some sort of protection. She was obviously struggling to keep her emotions in check, to keep herself together while they were at school. But the strain was showing, the effort was taking his toll.

And Max knew his attitude was partially to blame for it.

"Look, I'm meeting with Michael, Isabel, and Tess at lunch today. In the gym. We can talk then," he said finally.

Liz nodded, relief etched into the lines of her face. "Okay, great. Lunch."

Max nodded and walked past her, stepping into the classroom. His eyes automatically wandered over everyone else in the class, skirting cautiously around Maria and Michael. Maria locked eyes with him, holding his gaze for a beat, but then she looked away. He slid into a seat in the back of the classroom, struggling to hold back a sigh as Liz took the seat next to him.

Class passed quickly enough, mostly because Max wasn't paying attention to anything the teacher said. His mind kept running back to other thoughts, mostly surrounding Copper Summit. He was almost tempted to leave the others in the dark and visit the town by himself, but he wasn't _that_ reckless. It was too dangerous, he knew, for just one person to venture into a completely unknown situation.

Still, it wasn't easy to come to terms with the fact that, if he did not go by himself, he would have to go with the rest of them. Which meant being stuck in a car for several hours, forced to make small talk and avoid all the topics that Isabel and Liz would no doubt want to discuss.

He cornered Michael easily enough after class, catching the taciturn hybrid before he had a chance to leave the room. Michael stared at him, a cool look in his eyes, and Max did his best not to loose his temper. He knew Michael was silently judging him – and that wasn't really anything new, was it? – but that only served to make his own frustration grow.

Michael didn't have the right to judge him, not about this. He didn't know what it felt like to be kept completely in the dark, and had the situation been revered, he'd probably be reacting in exactly the same way.

Max kept his thoughts to himself and instead muttered, "Meet me at the gym during lunch. I have something we need to talk about." Michael raised one eyebrow in a languid manner, demanding more of an explanation, and Max elaborated shortly, "It's about Whitaker."

Maria came to Michael's side, and gave Max a quick look. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and circles of color spread out from her cheekbones, a sure sign that she was annoyed about something.

"Am I not invited to your little pow-wow?" she hissed in an irate tone.

Max turned to her, blinking. "Whatever. Come if you want," he answered in a bored tone. Maria's presence didn't matter to him, though he had no doubt that Michael would have an opinion one way or the other.

"Oh, so I don't matter?" Maria asked haughtily. "I guess that's why you decided to tell Michael and Isabel… and even _Tess_… about Whitaker's car accident. But not me or Liz or Alex. What's the matter, don't you trust us anymore?"

He didn't bother answering. Instead, giving Michael one last quick look, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Behind him, he heard Maria snap, "I can't believe he is still holding a grudge about this…"

* * *

Word eventually spread to Isabel and Alex, and by the time lunch arrived, the entire group – sans Kyle – had gathered in the gym. Maria had pulled up a chair for herself, and Michael was standing behind her, arms crossed over his chest. Alex and Liz were both sitting on the floor across from Maria and Michael, leaning against each other. Isabel was pacing, looking worried, and Tess stood opposite Max, her eyes studying him curiously.

Max didn't waste time on pleasantries. Pulling the letter from his pocket, he held it out for the others to see. "I found this in Whitaker's office last night," he explained. "It's from something called the Universal Friendship League."

Isabel shivered. "Creepy."

"When were you in Whitaker's office?" Liz asked curiously.

Max slanted a look in her direction, then said, "Some time after midnight."

"You broke in?" Michael demanded incredulously. "Are you crazy?"

Max couldn't help rolling his eyes at Michael's words. "Right," he drawled, "because you've never broken into somebody's office," he said, a pointed reminder of the multiple times Michael had thrown caution to the wind in an attempt to gain answers.

"Max, I could have just let you in," Liz said softly, a gentle rebuke. "You didn't have to break in. It was too dangerous, what if you'd gotten caught?"

"But I didn't get caught," Max countered with a shrug.

Liz sighed, but didn't push the issue. Still, it was clear from the pain reflected in her eyes that she had figure out what Max hadn't said aloud, that he had decided not to call her simply because he was trying to avoid being in her presence.

"We have to work together," Isabel protested. "As a _team_. We're in this together, Max. Stop trying to do everyone on your own."

Max narrowed his eyes at her and answered pointedly, "If I was going to do everything on my own, I wouldn't have called this meeting. I would have just taken the car to Copper Summit to investigate this League and their Vilandra Project."

"Vilandra?" Isabel murmured, suddenly pale.

Max nodded once. "Yeah." He passed the letter along to her, letting her read over the words. Michael leaned over to look as well, and once they were both done, Max asked, "Does the town of Copper Summit mean anything to you?"

Isabel chewed her lip thoughtfully, then said, "Future Max mentioned it once, I think. He said there were other aliens there. Evil ones. Lead by some guys named… Nathan? No, not that… um…"

"Nicolas," Michael said, looking at Isabel. "I think he said Nicolas."

"Did he say anything else?" Max asked, and was rather impressed at his own ability to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Isabel shook her head. "He didn't say much of anything about that," she replied.

"He was trying to figure out exactly where he was in the timeline," Tess explained at Max's confused look. "He was asking us questions… something about a harvest and dupes and Copper Summit."

"Harvest? Dupes?"

Tess shrugged. "I don't know. He didn't elaborate on any of that."

Max ran a hand through his hair and started pacing. Although he knew that his future counterpart had only been in this time for a few days, he still couldn't quite fathom how he had failed to impart more information. Why didn't he at least explain what Copper Summit was, and why the League was there? No matter how much the timeline changed, that would still be relevant.

"He had a lot to tell us," Liz murmured softly, apparently reading Max's own thoughts in his expression. "He couldn't fit in everything. And… I think he was also trying to protect us. I think that he thought that if we could change things enough, then we didn't need to know about all the horrible things that had happened before…"

There was a tense silence as Max digested this, then Alex asked, "So what now? Do we go to Copper Summit?"

Max sighed and looked at Michael. "Have you spoken to Courtney yet?" Michael shook his head wordlessly, and Max continued, "She might be able to tell us what is at Copper Summit. I don't want to risk going there until we know more."

"What a surprise," Michael drawled, "you don't want to take a _risk_."

Max ignored the comment and instead directed, "So, Michael, you go talk to Courtney and tell us what she says."

"Shouldn't we all go talk to her together?" Liz protested.

Max snorted almost disdainfully. "Why bother?" he replied. "I'm sure Michael can fill us all in."

Maria rose to her feet, eyes flashing angrily. "Would you just get over yourself already?" she spat. "We already explained a million times why we couldn't tell you what was going on before. And we get it, you don't like being left out. Well, deal with it. But, for God's sake, get over the grudge already. The world doesn't revolve around you."

Max let out an ironic chuckle and said, "Just this morning you were yelling at me for leaving you in the dark about Whitaker's car accident. _You_ didn't like being left out either. You said it made you feel like I didn't _trust_ you."

He stormed out of the gym, not caring that the exit seemed childish and petty, even in his own mind. He suddenly felt the need to get away from them. Now, before he let his emotions get the best of him and ended up saying something he really would regret.

In the hallway, however, he ran into Kyle. Literally.

The jock took a step backwards, holding out his arms as though to steady himself. The book he had been holding dropped the ground, and he bent quickly to pick it up. Straightening, he gave Max a scrutinizing stare.

"You alright, Evans?"

"Yeah, fine," Max answered distractedly.

Kyle looked past him towards the gym. Something flickered in his eyes, then he asked sarcastically, "A gathering of the little green men?"

"Yeah, something like that," Max agreed. He wasn't entirely sure he liked being referred to as a little green man, but he didn't press the issue. There wasn't really a point arguing with Kyle, anyway.

"Something bad happening?" Kyle asked, a bit suspicious. "You look like the world's ended."

Max let out a slow breath. "I'm fine," he said. "Everything's fine."

"Yeah, right," Kyle answered with a roll of his eyes. "Go ahead, lie to the dumb jock, I'm sure he'll never figure it out. You know, you're not the only one who gets left out and lied to." He stepped around Max and disappeared down the hallway, leaving the hybrid king alone.

The hallway was silent. The other students must have all decided to enjoy the warmth and eat outside in the quad. It was a relief, Max noted to himself as he sagged against the row of lockers to his right, because he really didn't want to deal with people right now.

"You know, he's pretty accepting, all things considered," a voice commented. He didn't look up, but he felt Tess' presence move closer to him. He knew she was talking about Kyle.

He licked his lips and asked, "Is that so?"

"Well, he basically gets lied to for an entire year while you make goggle-eyes at his ex-girlfriend. He knows there is something going on with his dad but he can't figure it out. All he knows is you're involved. Then he gets shot and that's his introduction into the world of Czechoslovakians. Then, on top of all of that, just as he is getting used to this newfound knowledge, an alien actually moves in with him and takes over his room."

He turned to look at her, a question in his eyes, and she gives an eloquent shrug of her shoulders.

"No, he hasn't talked about it, not really. But the few times we have spoken…" she gave a faint smile, her eyes unfocused as she remembered some past conversation, "let's just say he made it clear that it wasn't the easiest thing in the world for him to accept it all."

She glanced back over her shoulder towards the gym. It was empty now, the others having left at some point. Max couldn't help but wonder if they had discussed who should come after him, if they had sent Tess. It seemed unlikely, but given that she had spent so much time distancing herself from him over the past week, he couldn't imagine why she would make a point of talking to him now.

"Do you have a point?" Max asked finally.

Tess eyed him, then nodded. "It isn't an issue of trust."

"Huh?"

"You stormed out of the gym after that whole thing about trust. I assume your comment was meant to imply that you thought we didn't trust you."

He rubbed his hands together. "I don't want to talk about this, Tess," he said, his tone hard. "Not with you."

She laughed and shook her head, blonde curls bouncing. "Well, who do you want to talk to then, Max? Because you've made it pretty clear you don't want anything to do with Michael, Isabel, or Liz. And given that Maria will most likely kill you if keep acting like this and Alex isn't going to go anywhere without Isabel right now… who else do you have to talk to besides me?" She paused, then said in a softer tone, "It wasn't that we didn't trust you. How can you even think that?"

"You didn't tell me," Max replied calmly. "What else was I supposed to think?"

"That we were overwhelmed by the fact that someone from the future came to visit us? That we were scared because we'd just been told that the future ended in every single timeline, that we weren't able to save it? That we were trying to do the best we could with the limited information we were given?" Tess answered sardonically, rising her eyebrows pointedly.

"How can I trust anything you say?" Max demanded. "How do I know you aren't lying to me now, also?"

"You don't," Tess agreed with an icy smile. Her blue eyes studied him for another long moment before she continued, "Just like you have no way of knowing that everything Liz told you about Future Max was true. Maybe she was making it up. Maybe it was all one complicated story, one incredibly lie meant to cover up what _really_ happened."

"That's ridiculous," Max countered.

Tess smirked in reply. "More ridiculous than the idea that your future self used an alien device to come back in time and warn us of the impending apocalypse?"

Max chewed his lip and did not reply.

"Look, I wasn't there when Liz told you what was happening. I don't know for certain what your reaction was. But from what I hear, you believed everything she told you. Sure, you were skeptical. Who wouldn't be? But when she swore it was all the truth, you believed her. Why?"

Max didn't answer.

"Because she's Liz," Tess pressed. "Because you trust her. You trust us. If you want to be angry, fine. Go ahead. Be angry, be furious. Be livid. But don't pretend that you don't trust us anymore, or that you think we don't trust you. Because you _know_ that isn't true."

She walked past him, and Max swallowed back his own conflicted response and let the silence fall once more.

He was starting to get a headache.

* * *

"Hey, Michael," Max called out, finding his friend in the parking lot outside the school after the last class was over for the day. Michael turned and looked at him, and he asked, "When are you going to talk to Courtney?"

"Right now," Michael answered. "Figured I'd catch her before I have to get to my shift at the Crashdown." He hesitated, looking at Max critically, then asked, "You coming?"

"Yeah," Max answered readily. "Yeah, I'm coming."

* * *

"You can't go to Copper Summit."

Courtney was agitated, pacing back and forth with a look of worry on her features. She would pause occasionally and turn to glare at them as though her anger would be enough to convince them to change their minds.

"What's at Copper Summit?" Maria pressed. She'd joined Michael and Max as they left school, and though she had sent Max a pointed scowl, she had kept her opinion about her presence mostly to herself.

Courtney let out a sigh. "Nothing good," she said heavily. "It's where the other skins are. If you go there, you're going to get killed."

"That's our problem," Michael said firmly.

She frowned at him and hissed, "I did not spend 50 years finding you so that you could throw your life away over some incredibly stupid scheme."

Maria's eyes widened. "Fifty years?"

"Yeah, we came here in 1950," Courtney said dismissively. "You do the math."

"So, what? That would make you 65, 70?" Maria pressed gleefully. "You're old enough to be Michael's grandmother. I just… I just love that. I do."

Courtney stopped her pacing long enough to give Maria a cool glare. "Hey, husks don't age," she defended herself, her lips twitching into a wry smile.

"Husks?"

"Yeah, me." Courtney gestured down to the length of her torso. "My skin, this thing that I'm wearing. It never ages.""

"What is your point?" Maria demanded haughtily.

"The point," Courtney replied triumphantly, "is that I've been a babe for 50 years. What are you going to look like in 50 years from now?"

"Would you two let it go?" Michael interrupted irately. "You're giving me a headache."

Courtney gave him a wink and answered, "As you wish, Mickey G."

Max stepped in quickly, before the argument could escalate. Maria was already fuming, but he ignored her and asked Courtney, "What's a husk?"

"It's basically a shell," Courtney explained. "It protects us from the environment."

"Like a space suit?" Michael questioned.

"Yeah. This planet's atmosphere is hostile to our race. The husks are a lifeform technology that we can genetically manipulate to resemble human bodies."

"Huh?" Maria muttered, her expression reflecting the confusion Max felt.

Courtney ignored their confusion and added, "Our relationship is essentially parasitic."

"Your skin is alive?" Maria asked incredulously.

Courtney shrugged. "Like the trees are alive." She had finally stopped pacing and looked a little more relaxed. However, the worry was still there, etched into her eyes. "Look, the husks are good for about 50 years. But then they start dying. That's why you keep seeing these pieces of skin around. We're peeling. Whitaker, me, the other skins in Copper Summit. We're running out of time."

"The skins in Copper Summit? How many are there?" Max questioned.

"A lot," Courtney replied. "The Universal Friendship League is a cover for the other skins. The ones who worked with Whitaker. They're lead by Nicolas, one of Khivar's generals." She looked at them for a moment, then asked, "You do know who Khivar is, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Michael answered for them. "So… if all the skins in Copper Summit are about to die, then all we have to do is wait them out. If the husks die, we're home free, right?"

Max studied the rebel skin, watching her eyes harden. There was more to the story, something she hadn't fully explained… If it was enough to wait for the skins to die on their own, then why was Courtney looking at them with fear in her eyes? Why was she preparing for something else, something big?

"What are you not telling us?"

Courtney swallowed anxiously and answered simply, bluntly, "The harvest."

* * *

Author's note: Okay, just in case this isn't clear to everyone, Liz told Max everything she could remember about Future Max's visit and his revelations, except for Tess' involvement in Alex's murder. Her reasons for not discussing that will be made more clear in future chapters, but for right now, Max doesn't know that Tess was in league with the skins in some of the other timelines.


	16. The Second Dimension II: Width

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

* * *

The Second Dimension: Width

_A lot of people are afraid of heights. No me. I'm afraid of widths._

_-Stephen Wright._

"You can't come," Max said firmly, arms folded across his chest in an unyielding gesture.

Isabel looked at him, her expression a mixture of anger and pleading. The anger seemed to be winning out, however, and when she spoke her voice was cold and furious, "You can't order me around!"

"Isabel, for God's sake, think about this," Max protested, shaking his head in frustration at her refusal to listen to reason. Granted, he did know that some of his reasons for keeping her out were a reflection of his own bitter grudge, a sense of hurt that still refused to leave. But most of it was fear. Fear for her.

Didn't she see the danger she was in?

He took a slow breath and continued in what he hoped was a reasonable tone, "The man who sent that letter to Whitaker… I think his name was Greer… he was a project coordinator. For the _Vilandra_ project. They want _you_."

Isabel chewed her lip and looked away.

"You said it yourself," Max continued, his tone gentle, but underlined with steely resolve. "That's why Whitaker targeted Tess. Because she thought Tess was you."

"We're safer together. As a group."

"You're not safe there," Max countered. "Doesn't matter if we're a group or not. You're not safe there, and I'm not okay with the idea of sending you into the very group of people who are trying to kidnap you!"

"He's got a point," Michael agreed slowly. He had been standing to the side of the two bickering siblings, listening in silence to the conversation. And though Max was grateful for his friend's support, he also could tell by the stubborn look in Isabel's eyes that she wasn't going to listen to Michael, either.

"How can you say that?" Isabel hissed. "Future Max said we needed to work as a group."

"Technically, it was Courtney who said we needed to work as a group," Michael pointed out logically, "and we haven't quite agreed that she is trustworthy yet."

"Do you really think she's wrong about this?" Isabel snapped irritably. "Maybe she isn't trustworthy. Maybe she's the enemy. Maybe she's plotting to kill us all. But do you really think that she is wrong about us needing to stick together?"

"We are sticking together," Michael retorted. "It's not like we're abandoning you."

"I can't believe the one time you two actually agree on something, it's against me," Isabel grumbled bitterly, turning away from them. She ran a hand through her hair and stared blankly around the room, then let out a long sigh. "Fine. I'll stay. But I don't like this."

Max felt vague relief at her words, but he did not show the emotion. He knew he should be grateful that she finally acquiesced to their request, but there were other concerns pressing down on him.

To Michael, he said, "Tess will need to come. And Liz, she's the only one with a legitimate connection to Whitaker. But I don't see a reason to bring anyone else."

Michael shrugged and muttered, "Maria's not going to like that."

"Alex won't either," Isabel agreed. She hesitated, then gave Michael a look that Max could not decipher, and asked, "Are you sure Tess needs to go?"

"What happened to doing things as a group?" Max asked suspiciously.

Isabel didn't answer, and even Michael looked uncomfortable. There was something there, some communication passing between the two, and Max didn't have a clue what it was. But he could not shake the feeling that he was being left in the dark… again.

He opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. He didn't even know what he would ask. How could he accuse them of lying to him when he had nothing to go on but a vaguely uneasy feeling? They'd just deny it, and what good would that do?

He looked down, drumming the fingers of one hand casually against the other arm.

They hadn't included Tess. Just like Michael had made no attempt to bring Maria into this conversation. No one had mentioned Liz – Max had a feeling they were waiting for him to say something about the brunette, and he knew they'd be waiting for a while because he had no intention of dragging her into this – and Isabel had only half-heartedly asked about including Alex.

He doubted either of them had even though of Kyle.

"Tomorrow's the weekend," Max said softly, breaking the uneasy silence. His words forced both Michael and Isabel to look at him, to give him their full attention, and then he added, "We can go then. Isabel, you can cover for me with Mom and Dad. Hopefully we can go and be back by Sunday."

"Just the three of you?" Isabel asked skeptically.

"What about Courtney?"

"I don't really like the idea of bringing her along," Max admitted reluctantly, looking over at Michael. "But she might be an asset."

"Or she might get you killed," Isabel countered. "I can't believe you're actually considering trusting here after what she did."

"You said nothing she did had any lasting damage to the… uh… future me," Max replied with a frown. "And yeah… her methods were a little unorthodox, a little brutal, but it seems like she hasn't really done anything yet. At least, not anything really bad."

"She'll betray us," Isabel said flatly.

Max blinked, feeling a little puzzled. The word _betray_ implied that Courtney was considered part of the group. Trusted. And ally. She could only be a traitor if they thought she was on their side, and as of right now, no one was arguing that. They were still cautious around her, still wary.

At best, she was merely a source of not-quite-reliable information.

"Does she… in the future, any of the futures, does she…?" He trailed off, glancing between his sister and his best friend, searching for answers he didn't think he would find.

Isabel pressed her lips together, her mouth forming a thin line.

It was Michael who answered in a steady tone, "She dies early in all of the future. I don't think she makes it past the end of this year."

Max nodded slowly. This was making less and less sense. If she had died early in all the other timelines, then she had obviously never had a chance to cause them any harm. So what reason could Isabel have for disliking her so much?

And why did the dislike seem almost… personal?

"I don't trust her," Isabel said at last, licking her lips. "And I think this whole thing is a mistake."

"I don't see that we have any other choice at the moment," came Michael's even response.

Isabel was still angry and upset about something, as evidenced by the way she kept clenching her fingers into fists. Michael looked apprehensive, but his gaze was now fixed on Isabel again, and Max had the strangest sensation that somehow this conversation wasn't about Courtney anymore.

Maybe it hadn't ever been about Courtney.

"Something you care to share with me?" Max asked mildly, knowing even as he pressed the question that they would not provide an explanation.

Sure enough, Michael shrugged and changed the subject. "What about Parker?"

Max lifted an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"She's the only one with a legitimate connection to Whitaker. Don't you think she should come with us?"

Max shook his head emphatically. "No. Look, we don't need a connection to Whitaker. If we go by what Courtney said, all we have to do is locate these… husks… and destroy them. Then the problem is solved."

"For now," Isabel murmured.

Michael hesitated, obviously not convinced, and Max snapped irritably, "Do you want to bring along Maria and Alex, too? How about Kyle? Jim? Let's see just how many humans we can put in danger on this mission."

Michael paled at the mention of Maria in danger and looked away. Max wasn't blind or oblivious, and in the past week, he had noticed Michael pulling further and further away from the abrasive blonde human. Whatever had transpired over that weekend that Future Max had visited, it had been enough to firmly push the two of them apart.

Max sighed, letting out a slow breath of air. He was exhausted and the tension was not helping.

"Fine," Michael caved ungraciously. "Just the three of us… and Courtney. Isabel can stay here with Maria, Liz, and Alex."

Max nodded once, slanting a look at Isabel. She was still unhappy, but she sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

"Fine," she muttered, echoing Michael. "Sounds fine."

* * *

If the others had objections to being left out of the plan, Max did not hear them. He left Michael in charge of telling Maria what they would be doing, and Isabel in charge of talking to Alex. He would have asked Isabel to talk to Liz as well, but he knew he needed to speak to her. She might have the answers he was looking for, the answers that Michael and Isabel were so reluctant to tell him.

Which is why he found himself standing in the alley below Liz's room, gazing up at her window.

He often wondered if Liz could feel the connection between them the same way he could. It was a warmth in the air, a lingering feeling of comfort. Even when he had been angry at Liz – and over the past week, he had been furious with her – he could still feel that bond.

And perhaps it was that inexplicable connection that now pulled Liz to her window. The curtains rippled for a moment as they were drawn back, and then Liz's head appeared on the other side of the glass, staring down at him. She looked a little surprised to realize who was standing in her alley, and then she quickly opened the window, an invitation for him to come in.

He climbed up to her window quickly and slipped through into her room. The silence between them was strained, tense, and Liz's eyes were wary. She was clearly expecting an argument, and he wondered vaguely why she had even opened the door for him in the first place.

"Michael, Tess, Courtney, and I are going to Copper Summit," he said without preamble.

"Oh." Liz blinked and stepped away from him. He saw the disappointment clearly in her expression and knew that she had hoped he would ask her to join them. But she didn't ask, and instead questioned, "What about Isabel?"

Max sighed. "We think it would be best if Isabel didn't come. It's too dangerous for her."

Liz raised her eyebrows for a moment, obviously doubting that Isabel would have suggested this. In a tone of mild disbelief, she said, "Okay. Um… Maria and Alex?"

"They're going to stay here," Max replied. "Isabel will cover for me, and Jim and Kyle can cover for Tess. No one is going to look for Michael or Courtney. But… um… if anyone does ask about us, you can cover, too."

It was more of an order than a request, and Liz's gaze hardened. But just nodded silently.

Max hesitated. The conversation had lulled into silence, and now was the time for him to ask his questions. But he didn't know what to ask, didn't know how he could ask anything. He couldn't put his disquiet into words, couldn't explain what it was that he thought had been missing from their explanation. But something _was_ missing, he was certain of that.

"Max?" Liz prompted him. "Was there anything else?"

He rubbed his palms together and studied her face for a moment, then asked softly, "Is there anything else you want to tell me about the future?"

Liz looked a bit startled, but she regained her composure quickly. Still, Max had seen the worry and doubt in that brief instant, and it only served as more confirmation of his suspicions.

"We've told you everything," Liz answered finally. "At least, everything that we were told."

Max ran a hand through his hair, his anger bubbling just below the surface. He knew it wouldn't take much to get him to lose his temper, and he truly did not want to start yelling at Liz. But she was lying to him – they were all lying to him – and it was starting to be too much.

Tess had told him that it wasn't an issue of trust. That they trusted him, and that he knew it. He'd believed Tess then, because even though he'd been angry at them, they were still family. And he knew that, when it really mattered, he could trust his family and his family could trust him.

But why were they lying now?

"You're lying," he said bluntly. "Just like Michael and Isabel were."

The comment caught Liz off guard, and though she opened her mouth to say something, she couldn't find the right words. She floundered for a moment before finally muttering the rather pointless, "What do you mean?"

Max shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. He'd honestly thought Liz would be different. He didn't know why, given that she'd lied to him, too. But somehow, he had thought that if he just confronted her about it, she would tell him everything. But it was obvious she was going to do the exact same thing as Michael and Isabel, and the not knowing was starting to eat away at him.

"I'll see you when I get back from Copper Summit," Max said at last, his words devoid of emotion.

It felt as though he didn't even know Liz, not anymore. He had no idea how this could all have changed so drastically, but in the course of two days, he'd been ripped away from the girl he thought of as his soul mate. Future Max's visit had done more harm than even the revelation of Destiny.

"Max…" Liz started, and then stopped. He looked at her, and she asked, "Are you sure I should stay behind? I know Whitaker… or knew her. I could help… in case people ask why we're there."

"We don't need an explanation," Max answered with a cool shrug. "Courtney will point us in the direction of the skins. We'll go in, get rid of them, and leave. No need to talk to any one else."

Liz shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. "That easy?" she murmured, but Max had already turned away from her and was moving towards the window, so he did not bother to respond.

Whatever answers he had hoped to find, it was obvious they would not be offered by Liz. And Michael and Isabel had both been reluctant to reveal anything as well. Maria wasn't talking to him at the moment, so that left Alex, Kyle, and Jim.

And Tess.

They'd be in a car for several hours, driving to Copper Summit. Maybe Tess would give him the explanation no one else would.

* * *

"So… how many skins are there?" Max asked, tapping his fingers on the dashboard as he twisted in his seat to look at Courtney. She was riding in the back of the van, sitting next to Tess. Michael was driving, and although he kept his eyes mostly on the road in front of them, he would frequently glance at the back seat with something akin to suspicion. Tess was more subtle in her dislike of the skin, though it was still clear to Max that she was not thrilled about the seating arrangement.

"Enough that this is a really bad idea," Courtney muttered, looking briefly at Max. "You really think you can get to the husks unnoticed?"

"I think it is the best chance we have of stopping them," Max replied, though his tone was quiet, almost worried.

"What's it going to be like?" Tess questioned. "Copper Summit, I mean?"

"It's practically a ghost town. Not a whole lot there, besides the skins," Courtney answered. "They use it as a base. Got homes and jobs and everything. Blend in pretty well with the few humans that still live in the town." She hesitated, then added, "It's isolated. About 46 miles from the interstate, 63 miles from the nearest Ho-Jos. We get into trouble, and there won't be any way out of it."

"And the Universal Friendship League?"

"It's a members-only outfit," Courtney explained. "At least, that's the way the rest of the town sees it. It's very hush-hush, they make it clear they don't like visitors. None of the humans really know much about it, they think it is a secret society of types…" She trailed off thoughtfully, then added, "I guess it is a secret society. They've got their own building and everything."

"You talk about it like you aren't a member," Michael commented.

Courtney shrugged. "They think I am, which is all that matters. But no, I'm not really a part of them. I don't have their same agenda." She paused, looking out of the window at the landscape as it flew by. Max watched her, wondering what thoughts were hidden behind those guarded pale eyes. Finally, she added, "The others will kill you the minute they realize who you are."

"We can handle them," Michael said confidently.

Courtney bit back a harsh chuckle. "Don't kid yourself, Mickey."

Max said with realization, "You're afraid."

Courtney nodded. "Of course I am. I'd be a fool not to be terrified of him."

"Him?" Tess asked, speaking up for the first time. "You mean Nicolas?"

"Nicolas Crawford. Don't let his looks fool you. He might look like a harmless teenager, but he's dangerous. He passes himself off as Vanessa Whitaker's kid brother."

"Is he related to Whitaker?"

"No. It's just his cover. But he's in charge, bosses them all around. Even his _supposed_ parents, Ida and Walt. He's got powers beyond anything you do, and he can get inside you head. Rip out information… you can't keep secrets from him."

Max sighed. Although he couldn't imagine ever using a power like that on the people he cared about, he could see the advantages of not allowing others to have secrets. It was secrets that had divided the group, secrets that now made him doubt whether or not his sister and best friend were being honest with him.

Max caught sight of Michael staring at him, and the look in his eyes was troubled.

"So… are the husks guarded?"

"They won't be during the funeral."

"The funeral?" Michael asked.

"For Vanessa," Courtney explained. "They'll have one, a whole big affair. To cover their tracks, to make sure that no one asks any questions. She's a Congresswoman, she's a public figure, so they can't afford to do this halfway. They went to all the trouble of faking a car accident, they're certainly not going to skip the funeral."

"When's the funeral?" Max questioned.

"Tomorrow," was Courtney's reply.

Max gave her a scrutinizing stare, wondering if he should ask her how she knew all this. He supposed that she had learned it from the skins in Copper Summit, who would certainly have kept her informed of any details if they thought she was one of them. But it was still a little disconcerting to have their plan rely so heavily on information she provided.

Of course, what other choice was there?

"That should give us enough time," Michael said, breaking into Max's musings. "We'll get there early in the morning, probably. We can scope out the town, try to get a lay of the land and all that."

The van was silent for a few minutes as Max digested everything they had learned from Courtney. Michael gave his full attention back to the empty stretch of highway before them, and Tess had now shifted her gaze from Courtney to her own window.

Then Courtney spoke. "Look, I've got a deal to make with you."

"A deal?" Michael asked with a snort. "What makes you think we're going to go with any deal of yours?"

"Because you need me," Courtney answered, snapping her gaze to the back of his head. "I wouldn't be here, in this car, if you didn't need my help."

There was little anyone could say to counter that, and Max felt the uneasy tension in the car increase. Tess hadn't spoken yet, though her eyes were open and more expressive than usual, displaying her apprehension. Michael's expression was more closed, but he made no attempt to hide his feelings.

He said bluntly, "What do you have to offer, then? And how do we know you won't turn on us?"

Courtney smiled coolly. "You don't. Which begs the question – if you don't trust me at all, why did you ask me to come?" She let her words echo in the silence for a moment, before pressing, "I'll bet it is because you're that desperate to stop the threat now. And if you're desperate enough to take help from someone you don't trust, you're hardly in the position to refuse my demands."

"What do you want?" Max asked at length.

Courtney licked her lips. "My husk."

Max gaped at her, for a moment completely speechless with surprise. He honestly hadn't considered the possibility that Courtney's husk was with all the others. But if that was the case, then she was coming along on a mission that had the potential to end up destroying her.

"It isn't fully matured. If it was, I could use it now. But if I were to… put on the husk, I suppose is the best verb… it would still need nutrients from the outside. It would not serve me well, and I would rely too heavily on supplements."

"What do you need from us?"

"I'll take you to where the husks are being stored. I'll help you destroy them. In return, you help me figure out how to allow my husk to mature to its full potential."

"And how are we going to help you with that?" Michael asked skeptically.

"You're not going to like it," Courtney warned.

Max raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"The Granolith," she said simply.

* * *

"What do you think of Courtney's request?"

"I think we don't really have another option, not if we want to stop this… harvest."

Max had taken over the driving from Michael, and although the stubborn hybrid General had apparently wanted to remain awake for the entire drive, he had finally succumbed to sleep. He was slouched over in the back seat, his head resting against the window.

Courtney, too, had drifted to sleep. She had stayed away longer than Michael, but hadn't seemed to feel the need to keep her eyes open much after that. She was apparently confident enough in the simple fact that they needed her and would not do anything to harm her.

At least not until after the Harvest.

Tess an Max had both dozed during the drive, and were now wide awake. Tess had moved to the front seat, taking the passenger side as Max took over the driving. The ride had passed in silence for a while, but Max had finally broken the peace that had fallen to ask his own question.

"I know," Max answered Tess' answer. "I really don't see any other way. And I don't like it, but… we do need her."

Tess pulled idly at one curl, letting it bounce up and down for a moment. "I hear Isabel wasn't happy to be left behind."

Max gave a wry grin in reply. "Not really. But they're after her. That's why they took you."

Tess flinched, and Max inwardly kicked himself for being so blasé about her ordeal. She'd been through a lot during her kidnapping, and although Max had been preoccupied by the emotional scars that had so obviously haunted Isabel after she had killed the skin, it was clear that Tess had suffered as well.

But there was something off about the blonde's expression, and Tess looked away. Max couldn't quite put his finger on what bothered him about it, on why he was suddenly suspicious, but the feeling was there. It twisted in the pit of his stomach and refused to let go.

When he had bluntly asked Michael, Isabel, and Liz about whatever they were hiding, they had brushed him off. Perhaps with Tess he would address the issue in a more subtle, round about way.

"What was… I… like? I mean, the me from the future?"

Tess slanted a look at him, her gaze contemplative as though she was truly considering the question. But when she answered, it was not the answer Max had wanted.

"Didn't Michael, Isabel, and Liz all tell you?"

"A little, I guess," Max agreed. "But I wanted your opinion also." Tess' eyes reflected her skepticism and he sighed, lifting one hand from the wheel to run his fingers through his hair. A glance in the rearview mirror told him that Michael and Courtney will still asleep.

He looked back at Tess.

"You're mad at them," she said, and it wasn't a question.

"Just feels like… I don't know. Like they're holding back, I guess," Max replied, trying to sound casual and nonchalant. He wasn't sure if he succeeded at that, but Tess turned her attention back to the road in front of them, shifting her scrutinizing gaze.

"He was… you." She shrugged, and lapsed into silence for a few moments. Max was about to press for more details, and then she said softly, "But he was also very… grown up." She seemed to realize as soon as she said the words that there was an insult hidden in them, that she was implying this present Max was not grown up, not mature. She hurried on to say, "Not that… I just mean… you could tell that he… that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. You could really tell. And I don't think… I don't think he ever forgot it. Not even for a second."

Max accepted this in silence. Although he did not like dwelling much on the sacrifice the future version of himself had made, it could not be denied that it still made him shudder just to think briefly of it. It wasn't even that he had sacrificed his life – he hadn't died, not really – but that he had given up his very existence. That version of himself would now never come to pass… and it must have been daunting and disheartening to come up with a plan that would, by its very nature, cost so much.

It was a sign of just how bad the future was, of just how desperate they had all been to change it.

"So why are they holding back?" Max asked curiously. "Michael, Isabel… Liz…"

Tess shrugged again. "You have to ask them, Max. I can't tell you why other people do the things they do."

They continue to drive in silence for a while, the night settling over them like a heavy blanket. Tess closed her eyes and leaned against the window, but did not sleep. Max let his thoughts wander to Copper Summit, to the task ahead of them.

He had not thought much about the consequences of this. He didn't want to think about it, though he knew that he should. He had agreed with the others that this was necessary, but it still didn't change the fact that they were essentially killing all the skins. This one action could keep them safe… but he had seen how much it hurt Isabel and Michael to be responsible for the death of another, and they had been acting in self-defense, fighting back in the heat of the moment.

This was different. This was making a plan, carefully working through the details, and then executing it. This was premeditated, this was done with cold efficiency.

In his mind, this was akin to murder.

He thought about Copper Summit for so long that his mind was soon weighted down with the horrible realizations of what was to come. He knew the skins would not hesitate to kill them if they had the chance, but still… this seemed so wrong. It seemed like…

Like an act of war.

He did not want to contemplate war, however, so he forced himself to think of something else. His mind first went to Liz, and lingered there for a moment. He wished he hadn't left things the way he had, wished he hadn't walked away from the brunette with such bitterness in his heart. He loved her, and he knew that she loved him. So why were these barriers there, standing between them?

Last year, he would have sworn that there was nothing in the world, not even his supposed destiny as the king and savior of another planet, with Tess by his side, that could have kept him away from Liz. Wasn't it ironic, then, that _he_ was what was keeping them apart? Could the Future Max have seen this coming? Could he have known what might happen?

And would he have been willing to risk it? Would he have given up Liz to save the world?

Unbidden, Tess' previous words came to mind.

_I can't tell you why other people do what they do._

It was then that he realized that she hadn't denied it. She hadn't told him that the others weren't holding back, weren't keeping secrets. She hadn't countered that it was all in his mind, that he was being paranoid. In fact… she'd pretty much admitted to the fact that they were keeping a secret… she just refused to tell him _why_.

But he didn't care about the why. He cared about the secret itself. And if Tess could tell him that…

"Tess," he said sharply.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, and he didn't need to verbalize the request. She clearly read it in his eyes and sighed heavily, but gave a slow nod.

"Pull over."

Max didn't need to be told twice. There was no one on the road, and so he easily swerved over to the shoulder and put the van into park.

Michael and Courtney were still asleep.

Tess looked at him for a long moment, as though trying to make up her mind about something, and then she tentatively reached out and took his wrist. As soon as her fingers touched his skin, he felt a spark of something rushing up his arm and then was thrown full force into a vision.

"_You didn't tell him," Michael said, staring hard at Liz. _

_They were gathered in his apartment. He was pacing restlessly while glaring at Liz, who was seated on the sofa. The brunette looked tired and worn, exhaustion evident in the lines of her face. Maria was sitting next to Liz, holding her friend's hand tightly, but it was clear that, while she was offering her support, she did not agree with Liz's decision. Isabel, too, looked annoyed as she leaned against the wall near the window and studied her brother's one-time girlfriend. Only Alex, who was standing close to Isabel with an arm wrapped around her waist, seemed calm and collected, and in agreement with Liz._

"_I thought… I thought we should wait," Liz said finally. "I want to talk to Tess first. I want to… I want to figure out what she's going to do now."_

"_Who cared what she's going to do?" Isabel spat. "We know what she _did_."_

"_She hasn't done it yet," Liz countered. "You cannot convict her of murder when Alex is still alive." She hesitated, looking torn, and then added, "I told Max everything else. Everything Future Max told us, everything I could remember. But you know how he is going to react if he finds out about Tess. I just… I want to wait."_

"_For what?" Maria demanded skeptically. "For Alex to die?"_

"_She wasn't evil in every timeline," Liz protested firmly. "I won't condemn her. Not if there is a chance that she could still… still be on our side." She looked between Michael and Isabel, and added softly, "She's your family."_

"_If you trust her so much, why didn't you call her to this little meeting?" Isabel asked._

_Liz shook her head, pushing a few strands of brown hair out of her eyes. "This isn't about trust. I just thought it would be best if we talked about it without her… particularly since it was clear that you were all going to try to rip her to shreds."_

"_Why are you taking her side?" Maria demanded, and there was hurt in her expression. Whatever she had expected from her best friend, it was not this._

"_I'm not…" Liz rubbed her eyes warily. "This isn't about taking sides. This is about doing what is best for the group. Having Tess on our side is what is best for the group and Max… Future Max… he thought that Tess would join us After they talked… he told me there was a good chance that she would come back. I don't want… I don't want to ruin that."_

"_Oh, for the love of God," Michael muttered. "Parker, she killed Alex. She mind-warped him until his brain melted, faked a car accident to cover her tracks, and then tried to sell us out to Khivar. She's a traitor."_

"_She hasn't done any of those things yet," Liz replied in a steely voice._

_It was then that Alex spoke up, asking gently, "But why are you so determined to keep this away from Max?" He was the only one who did not seem so upset by the fact that he had been killed. He was the only one who appeared to be truly listening to Liz's reasoning._

"_You know he'd be furious," Liz answered. "He'd turn on her in a heartbeat."_

"_Good," Maria muttered._

_Liz ignored her and continued, "He wouldn't think things through, there would be a huge fight and… don't you remember that Future Max told us how much we need Tess? How her departure destroyed one of the timelines, allowed the skins to kill us so easily? In the first future he told us about, she left because of a fight. She didn't betray us, didn't kill Alex… but she did leave. And the world fell apart. Tess can _help_ us."_

"_Or she could hurt us," Alex replied. Liz looked at him, surprised by his remark given that he hadn't expressed any anger towards Tess yet, but he continued softly, "I'm not saying that I disagree with you. I'm not saying that I don't think Tess deserves the chance to prove that she in on our side. I'm just… I'm just curious why you are so adamant about this."_

_Liz looked down at her hands. All of a sudden, her eyes were filled with tears. They did not fall, she wouldn't let them fall, but they burned nonetheless, a sign of how upset she was. "I promised him I wouldn't give up on him. On us."_

"_So?" Isabel pressed._

_Liz swatted at her eyes, clearing the tears, and then said, "There's that timeline. You know, the one when I left. Went to boarding school, walked away from Max. Then… then Tess came back, and Max voted to hand her over to the FBI. To kill her, basically, because she wasn't going to let herself be thrown in the white room. She'd die, first."_

"_I remember that timeline," Michael agreed, his voice suddenly hoarse. They all remembered what Future Max had told them about it, about the kind of people he and Michael had become._

_It was Alex who put the pieces together, and said, "You're afraid that Max will turn on Tess, and that will somehow lead him down the same road that he went before. You're afraid that if he acts out of revenge, out of hatred and anger, he'll turn into that cold, twisted version of himself. And in that timeline, the two of you were so… there was so much distance between you, so much anger, that you were practically enemies. You don't want that to happen again."_

_Liz nodded mutely._

"_Fine," Maria said at last, her tone ungracious but her words an agreement with Liz. "Let's suppose we don't tell Max about Tess. Then what?"_

"_Let me talk to Tess," Liz replied. "I think… we'll need to tell Max, eventually. But I think she should be the one to do it He'll trust her more, if the truth comes from her. And if we can all say that we trust her as well…"_

The vision ended abruptly, and Max felt himself slam back into reality with a mix of emotions that threatened to take full control of his senses. He was dimly aware of the cold night air suddenly rushing into the van, of the sound of someone crying out in surprise as a door was yanked open.

"What did you do to him?"

"Michael, wait, you don't understand…"

"_What did you do?"_

Max finally forced away all his conflicting thoughts and emotions and focused on the scene in front of him. Michael was standing next to the passenger side of the van, his face filled with rage and fear. The door was open, and it was obvious that he had forcefully grabbed Tess and thrown her to the gravel ground of the empty highway. Tess was sprawled on the ground, staring up at Michael with an unreadable look in her eyes, one arm stretched out to defend herself.

Courtney was sitting in the back seat, eyes wide as she took in the sight. She'd obviously made no move to intervene, clearly having no idea what was going on, but she looked worried.

As Max watched, Michael raised his hand again and stared viciously at Tess, ready to attack.


	17. The Third Dimension II: Depth

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: I wanted to briefly address a comment about Maria's characterization in this story. I know she isn't being the nicest person right now, but my recollection of the episodes involving Courtney is that she let her jealousy of Courtney get in the way of... well, pretty much everything else. I mean, on the show she was still trading insults with Maria while they were rushing to Copper Summit to save everyone from painful death. And when Michael revealed the fact that Courtney was an alien, Maria's reaction was mostly to still make snide comments about him supposedly flirting with the skin. So she's going to be spiteful for a little while, but that will eventually fade, and she will return to the Maria we all know and love.

* * *

The Third Dimension II: Depth

_From the depth of need and despair, people can work together, can organize themselves to solve their own problems and fill their own needs with dignity and strength._

_-Caesar Chavez_

It is a simple fact of life that all creatures have a self-preservation instinct. Humans and aliens are no different, though they have the ability to lose that instinct over time. It can be twisted with depression and despair, it can be swallowed up in self-pity, it can be lost in blind rage. Evolutionary advancement gave them so much… including the capacity to destroy all that they were given.

But underneath everything, the body's instinct is to survive.

Which was why Max was not entirely surprised to see Michael hit the van with a resounding thud as a burst of energy exploded from Tess' hand and struck him heavily in the chest. Michael had had murder in his eyes, and Tess was not going to simply lie there and let herself be killed.

Courtney hurried from the van, moving quickly onto the highway and kneeling at Michael's side. Tess rose to her feet and backed away, face flushed, eyes darting nervously between Michael and Max. But Max was only barely aware of all of this, he was too lost in everything he had just learned.

_Tess had betrayed them. Tess had killed Alex. Tess had betrayed them. Tess had killed Alex. Tess had…_

"I didn't do anything to him," Tess said, her voice hard and sharp and cold as ice. She was glaring at the stunned Michael, but underneath it all was a sort of pleading look, begging for him to believe her.

She looked at Max and he met her gaze with a heaving sinking in the pit of his stomach.

_Tess had betrayed them. Tess had killed Alex._

Except she hadn't, he reminded himself. Alex was still alive. And Tess was on their side… wasn't she?

He couldn't think straight. His mind was filled with too many images, all imagined. Tess, laughing with Nicolas, with this Khivar that they were all so worried about. Tess standing over Alex's body, gleeful and triumphant. Tess watching coldly as they were captured by the skins. Tess mocking him…

He ran a hand through his hair, then tried to focus again. He could hear angry words snapping back and forth in the cool night air, and he looked back out at the highway. At Michael and Tess.

"…wanted to know why everyone was acting so weird around him. I showed him the conversation you all had. You know, the one where I was invited so that you could _privately_ discuss what to tell Max about me."

There was a bitterness to Tess' tone, but her words jolted Max enough that a question floated through the fog in his mind. He latched onto it, and forced himself to say, "Tess?" She, Michael, and Courtney all looked at him, and he asked, "How did you have that memory? If you weren't there?"

"It's not mine," Tess answered. "It's Liz's memory. She… we talked and she showed me the discussion." The blonde hybrid paused, still staring warily at Michael as she stepped closer to the van. "I presume you saw the conversation from her point of view?"

Max nodded. "Yeah."

_Tess had betrayed them. Tess had killed Alex. Tess had betrayed them._

He scrubbed at his eyes with one hand, wishing that he hadn't asked her anything at all about what the others were keeping from him. It was easier when he didn't know the truth. But now he knew, and he couldn't ignore it. couldn't ignore what it meant.

"Maxwell?"

Max looked at Michael. His best friend was standing ramrod straight, his eyes dark with anger and something that only Max recognized as fear. Anyone else wouldn't have caught it, but Max had known Michael far too long to miss out on the telltale signs of that emotion.

Michael had been truly afraid for him.

Michael had truly thought Tess was going to hurt him, had been hurting him.

_Tess had killed Alex._

But she hadn't killed Alex, not yet. And she hadn't hurt him, not physically anyway. The revelation was unpleasant, but he'd asked for it, practically demanded it. And she'd given in, although he had no idea why, because revealing the truth had only ended up hurting her.

"It's okay, Michael," he heard himself saying with a sort of numb detachment. "She was just showing me a memory. I… I asked her to do it. And she didn't… she didn't do anything else to me."

Michael rubbed his chest with one hand, wincing. Obviously, Tess' attack on him had left a sore spot, probably a bruise, on his skin. He turned to glare at the petite blonde, and she looked back defiantly, as though to remind him that he'd started it. He was the one who attacked her first, she'd just been acting in self-defense.

"What did you and Liz talk about?" Max asked finally.

Tess stared at him, then blinked and looked away. "After she talked to everyone else, after she got them to agree not to tell you, she came over to Kyle and Sheriff Valenti's house. She said she wanted to talk to me and… I don't know, really. She just told me that they had decided not to tell you. She wanted to know whose side I was on."

"What did you tell her?" Max asked. Tess shifted uncomfortably and looked at the ground, remaining silent, and Max realized that this was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of Michael and Courtney. Part of him, the part that kept saying, over and over…

…_Tess had betrayed them…_

…was tempted to ignore that rather obvious reluctance and just demand answers. But another part of him, a part that sounded quite a bit like Liz, reminded him pointedly…

_Trust works both ways._

He unbuckled his seatbelt and said, "Michael, stay here with Courtney. Tess… why don't we go for a short walk?"

"Maxwell," Michael protested, a clear warning in his voice.

"It's fine," Max said, stepping out of the van and shooting Michael a pointed look. If he wanted to get all the conflicted thoughts in his mind into some kind of order, he needed to talk to Tess. And he could tell just by the way she now refused to look at Michael that she wasn't going to be open and honest in front of the hybrid General.

Michael frowned, but gave a hesitant nod. With one final warning glower for Tess, he and Courtney clambered back into the van.

Satisfied, Max started walking along the side of the highway, confident in the fact that Tess would follow. Sure enough, she fell into step beside him, staring out at the rolling desert on either side of them. She remained silent for a moment, then once they were out of earshot of the van, she said, "I told her I didn't want to be a murderer."

_Tess had killed Alex. Tess had betrayed them. Tess had killed Alex._

"That doesn't exactly answer the question of which side you are on," Max pointed out dryly.

Tess wouldn't meet his gaze, and instead continued to stare directly in front of him. "No, I guess it doesn't," she agreed.

"What does that mean?" Max asked.

She paused and looked at him, and he turned to face her. "Do you hate me?"

_Tess had betrayed them._

"No." _Tess had killed Alex_. "Yes_." Tess had betrayed them_. "I don't know." _Tess had killed Alex_. "Maybe?"

Tess answered his stumbling words with a faint smile that did not reach her eyes, and said, "Well, at least you're honest. Not enough of that going around these days." She looked down at the ground for a moment, kicking pebbles with the toe of her shoe. "Maria hates me. So does Isabel. I think Michael's made his opinion rather obvious, too."

"Yeah," Max agreed. Then he remembered the flash and pointed out, "Liz and Alex don't. And it doesn't seem like Kyle or Sheriff Valenti do, either." Tess didn't say anything, and so he asked, "What did Liz say when you told her you didn't want to be a murderer?"

"Exact same thing you did," Tess answered honestly. "That it doesn't answer the question of which side I am on. Apparently you two really do think alike."

Max felt a warm flush race into his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, hoping she wouldn't read the emotion he knew must be shining in his eyes. They stopped walking, and Max shivered and drew a slow breath. His anger at Liz had dissipated quite a bit over the past couple days, and now even the lingering resentment was fading. He was sure they would still need to talk, would need to somehow work past the issues that had been raised, but… but maybe they had a chance again.

He looked back at Tess. She was watching him warily, a hesitancy in her expression, waiting for his reaction.

_Tess had betrayed them._

"What did you say to that?"

"What do you want me to say?" Tess countered. "I can't tell you that I feel like we can be some big happy family. I can't even tell you that I _want_ that. But I'm not going to kill Alex and I'm not going to turn you over to Khivar. Isn't that enough?"

"We're all in this together, Tess," Max cautioned. "You're either with us all the way, or you're not. It doesn't work for you to only do things halfway. You're… we are a family. And I need to know that we can trust you."

She frowned, and said softly, "I'm not the one who can give you that, Max. I've told you where I stand. You either trust me, or you don't. But it's _your_ decision, not mine."

She started walking away from him, back towards the van. He watched her go, contemplating what she had said. Her complete and utter lack of closure on the subject still bothered him, more than he would care to admit it. She wouldn't say for certain that she was on their side, wouldn't promise that he could trust her.

_Tess had killed Alex. Tess had betrayed them._

But she had said that she didn't want to be a murderer. She had said that she wouldn't betray them to Khivar.

She'd also said that she wasn't sure she even wanted to be part of their group, their family. As though she did not know where she belonged, and wasn't willing to look for it. Or, perhaps, she simply assumed that she did not belong with them.

With _him_.

"Tess?" he called out, and she turned and looked back at him, a question in her eyes. "Does this mean you've given up on destiny?" he asked, the wind nearly swallowing his words as he raised his voice to be heard across the distance that separated them. "You don't think we're fated to be together anymore?"

She shrugged in reply. "Does it matter? We both know you're going to go running back to Liz as soon as we get to Roswell… and she's going to let you."

Max swallowed back his reply and just nodded, watching as Tess turned and continued walking away.

Liz had said she wouldn't give up on him, on them. Liz had kept this a secret, had endured his anger for over a week, solely because she was trying to protect him from starting down the wrong path and ending up as someone neither of them recognized anymore.

Liz wanted to be with him.

And, at least for that one moment, it was enough.

* * *

"We'll be there in less than an hour," Max said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and looking over at Michael. "We should probably wake up Tess and Courtney."

Michael glanced in the backseat and shrugged. After the altercation with Tess, he had been quieter, almost subdued. It was entirely out of character for him, and left Max feeling a bit uneasy, a bit worried.

"You okay, man?" he found himself asking, wondering why the concern was practically threatening to explode. He was still angry with Michael, still greatly irritated about everything that had happened during the past week. And the respite from Michael's glares and angry mutterings should have been a relief.

It wasn't.

"Just don't like that we had to bring either of them along," Michael muttered under his breath, twisting in his seat to look back at Tess and Courtney. "Don't trust them."

Max didn't say anything. He certainly didn't trust Courtney, and saw no reason to change that. But the point still remained that they did need her help, and until that need faded away, there wasn't much they could do about her presence. She would remain, an unfortunate addition to their group.

"Maria and Isabel don't trust them, either," Michael added after a moment.

Max nodded. "Didn't realize you and Maria were on such good terms anymore," he commented dryly.

Michael flinched and looked away, his eyes moving automatically to the road. His gaze was shadowed by a stubbornly unreadable mask, and when Max chanced a quick look in his direction, he found himself unable to interpret what he saw.

He wondered if the comment had crossed a line. He rarely cared if he offended Michael, and certainly this past week had given him little reason to care about the taciturn hybrid's feelings. But somehow, bringing up Michael's relationship with Maria had provoked more a reaction than Max had expected.

He thought about pressing for details, but didn't. Neither of them had ever been the touchy-feely type, and he wasn't about to willingly enter into an emotional conversation about relationships. He'd most likely be mocked for even thinking about it.

"What did you and Tess talk about?" Michael asked finally, still staring at the road.

"Life," Max answered vaguely. He ran a hand through his hair, then said slowly, "She's on our side."

"How can you be so sure?" Michael demanded irately, snapping his gaze to Max's face. He scratched one eyebrow absently, then lowered his hand and sighed. "You and Parker… you both are being entirely irrational about this."

"Alex seems willing to give her another chance as well," Max pointed out, remembering the bit he had seen in Tess' vision. It was odd, but the boy she had ended up murdering in other timelines was also the most forgiving of the group. Alex, he reflected thoughtfully, was too often overlooked in the group. He was a good match for Isabel, and his personality could temper hers well.

"Yeah… more proof that he's gone crazy. That, and the fact that he can actually put up with Isabel."

Max laughed at Michael's droll tone. The amusement was perhaps a bit forced, but it eased the tension somewhat.

Still… "I don't know, Michael. Don't you think you guys are a little hasty to pass judgment?"

"If Liz hadn't decided she trusted Tess, would you still be saying that?" Michael asked shrewdly, and Max felt his face grow hot at the implication of those words. He knew Michael was right, his opinion was being swayed so much by Liz's own words. If the circumstances had been different, if Liz had been as vocally dead set against Tess and Maria was… well, it was hard to say what he would have decided.

But Liz had said she was trying to protect him. Liz had said she was trying to protect their relationship. Liz had said she had promised Future Max that she wouldn't give up on them, on their future.

He knew he was grinning, another one of his goofy, sappy, love-struck expressions. No doubt Michael would call him pathetic if he had any idea how warm and fuzzy Max was feeling at the moment.

Liz had said she wouldn't give up on them.

"I don't know. But I've had even less time to adjust to this than you have – and without the added benefit of talking to the future version of me, and somehow I still manage to be more open-minded about it."

"Look, if you're still clinging to your bitterness about…"

"God, do you have any idea how condescending you sound?" Max interrupted. He took his eyes off the road long enough to stare at Michael, to meet his gaze. "Stop acting like I'm being unreasonable, like you guys were all perfect and everything you did was right."

"We didn't want to lie to you, Maxwell," Michael growled, "but it was necessary. Why don't you just grow up and…"

"Grow up?" Max interrupted coldly. "You think _I'm_ the one being childish?" He slammed his hands against the steering wheel, almost hitting the horn. Fortunately, his fingers missed it by centimeters, and so the stillness of the night was not shattered. But the tension in the van was back again, and it was growing.

"You're acting like we deliberately tried to keep you out of something just to spite you. Like we didn't have a good reason!" Michael retorted furiously.

Max expelled a breath and said in a quiet tone, "_That_ is not what I am annoyed about." Michael blinked once, a little confused, and didn't say anything. Max continued, his voice growing louder with every word, "You're acting like you're a damn saint! Like you've never gotten upset at us when we had to do something without consulting you. Even if we did have a good reason. Can you honestly say you wouldn't be mad if you were in my position? That you would be so completely okay with this, with being left out of the loop? Even if it was for all the right reasons?"

He was almost yelling, but he didn't really care. The lingering resentment had morphed into full-blown anger, and it was looking for an escape route. And Michael was the obvious target.

"Maria, too. Neither of you are even apologetic that you had to lie to me. But any time either of you gets left out of anything, you act like it's the end of the world, like I've betrayed you. You saw how Maria reacted to me asking to talk to you and Isabel and Tess, and not thinking of going right to her. She was angry about it, and yet still had the gall to call me childish for being upset that I was left out of a major part of the past weekend!"

Whatever Michael was going to say was forestalled by the sudden realization that both Courtney and Tess had woken up and were looking at them with confusion and concern.

Then Courtney said, "Hate to interrupt, boys… but we're almost there. We need to figure out our game plan."

Michael gave Max one last, furious look, and then lapsed into silence. Max sighed heavily and tried to ignore the anger that still twisted in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't meant to start an argument with Michael, but the other alien could be so incredibly infuriating sometimes.

Still, all of that was pushed to the back of his mind, replaced with a more pressing concern of their imminent approach to Copper Summit.

* * *

Copper Summit was exactly what Courtney had said it would be. Practically uninhabited. Almost a ghost town.

They parked the van across the street from a large building with the words _Stagecoach Museum_ on it. The main street was empty, only a few locals milling around outside the museum, talking quietly to each other.

Courtney saw them and sank lower in her seat. "Skins," she explained. "Don't want them to see me."

"Will they notice the van?" Tess asked worriedly. "I mean… will they notice that we aren't residents? A strange vehicle on the day of the… Harvest… might raise suspicions."

"There are some locals who aren't skins," Courtney replied. "With any luck, they won't give it too much thought. They've got their own issues to be dealing with right now."

Max frowned. "I don't like relying on luck," he muttered. Now that they were here and the enormity of the task was finally settling on his weary shoulders, he could not deny how nervous he was. It wasn't just the possibility that they could get caught – and yes, he was thinking quite seriously about that – but also the fact that he was about to engage in cold-blooded killing.

His stomach flipped over, and he fought back the nausea.

"So… remind me of the plan," Michael said, his words hard and infused with irritation. The tension from their previous argument still lingered in the air, and neither Max nor Michael seemed quite willing to let go of the other's perceived wrongs.

"Just wait until the funeral, then walk into the Stagecoach Museum. The husks are being held in the back. We need to destroy them and then get the hell out of here," Courtney answered.

"You sure they won't be guarded?" Tess asked nervously.

Courtney shrugged. "They shouldn't be," she answered, and Max noted that she looked a bit worried as she said that. He knew that it was simply a reaction to the fact that she couldn't guarantee anything, and this was still the best chance they had.

He sighed. He wasn't really ready for this. But… what other choice did they have?

* * *

Courtney had made them move the van. The funeral wouldn't be a for a few hours, she had explained, and leaving the van there would only arouse suspicion and run the risk of the them being seem and possibly recognized. Max had driven into a side-street and parked out of view of museum, and they had disembarked from the van and spent the intervening hours wandering around the town. Courtney had directed them away from certain areas, and she seemed familiar enough with the town to avoid running into any skins.

And then it was time.

"Come on," Courtney said, gesturing for them to follow her. They walked quickly, trying not to look too conspicuous. But it didn't matter much, because by the time they reached the Stagecoach Museum, the main street was empty.

"Everyone's gone," Max murmured.

Courtney nodded. "All the people we saw before were skins. They'll be at the funeral now." They crossed the street quickly and walked around the museum, pausing at a door that lead into the storage room near the back. "In here," Courtney said.

Michael caught Max's arm and gave him one last, scrutinizing look. He was silently asking the question – did they trust Courtney enough to be doing this? – and Max met his gaze and gave a faint nod in reply.

Then he walked to the door and pulled it open.

It was rusty, and squeaked slightly on its hinges. But it opened easily under his hand, and he frowned in apprehension. "It wasn't locked," he murmured. If the husks were really being stored here, wouldn't the skins have had enough common sense to keep the place locked?

Courtney, too, seemed concerned, and she said, "Be careful."

They entered quietly, Michael first, followed by Courtney and Max, with Tess bringing up the rear.

They were in a large, dimly lit room. The room itself was completely empty, except for the rows of bodies in glass chambers. Max glanced at them, scanning the husks until he found the one that looked identical to Courtney. He shivered slightly, a little bit freaked out by the fact that these things were living, growing, plant-like creatures.

"That's just creepy," Tess murmured.

One of the glass chambers was empty. "That was Whitaker's, probably," Courtney mused. "They must be using her husk for the funeral. So people will think there is a body to bury." She walked along the glass chambers, staring at each of them for a moment, then paused in front of hers.

"How do we destroy this?" Max asked sharply, pulling her attention away from her own husk.

Courtney pointed to the back of the room. Several crystal cylinders were attached to tubes that connected to the glass chambers. "The crystals control the environment in the chambers. Destroy them, and the husks will die." Michael took a step towards the crystals, and Courtney said, "Wait!"

"For what?" Michael demanded.

"The skins are connected to their husks. Once the husks start dying, everyone at the funeral will feel immense pain. They'll know we're here. So as soon as we break that crystal… we need to run."

"Will you be in pain also?" Tess asked.

Courtney nodded. "Yeah. Don't worry about that, though, I can make it to the van." She hesitated, looked at all of them, and then said, "One of you will need to get my husk, though."

"That's fine," Max said.

"Oh… isn't this touching? Building a relationship of trust and mutual respect among enemies."

The voice was cold, and all eyes spun towards the door. The bright morning light drenched the newcomer, pouring in from the outside and nearly obscuring his features from view. But Max could tell that he looked young, perhaps only a teenager.

And there was something about him that sent chills down Max's spine.

"Nicolas," Courtney breathed, looking suddenly fearful. She backed away from him, but her posture remained firm and unyielding, even despite her fear.

"Courtney," the boy, Nicolas, replied with a smirk. "What a pleasure. And let me guess…" He looked at Max and said, "the once and future king," his gaze switched to Tess, "his bride," and with a final, sneering look at Michael, "And who do we have here? That gleam of dull stupidity in the eyes. If I'm not mistaken, you must be the king's second in command. I killed you myself in your last life. Ready to die again?"

"Bring it on," Michael challenged.

Nicolas raised his hand to attack, but Max conjured his force-field, placing it between Nicolas and the others. Nicolas' attack, a burst of crackling energy, hit the shield and fizzled. Max stumbled back a few steps, unprepared for the force of the blow.

Nicolas laughed. "How long do you think that shield is going to hold?"

"As long as necessary," Max answered defiantly.

"It's a pity Vilandra did not come with you," Nicolas remarked, moving forward with a gleam in his eyes. He looked at the husks and said, "You know, it has taken twenty years, nursing them from spores to maturity. Now they're almost ready to harvest. And just in time for us to kill you all. Oh… but don't worry, your Majesty," he glanced at Max, "Vilandra will be quite safe with us."

"Her name," Max spat, "is Isabel."

"The royal four," Nicolas said, shaking his head in disbelief. "If only the people could see you now. Clueless teenagers groping for their own identities. You'd lose some of that legendary aura that's sprung up over the years."

He attacked again, and this time Max dropped to his knees, groaning. The force-field wavered, but did not fall.

"You're good," Nicolas commented, "for a pathetic half-breed. Whoever thought up the idea of combining Antarian DNA with the far inferior human DNA was an idiot. But… you are good." Then he grinned, a shark-like expression, and continued, "But not good enough."

The third attack was more than Max could handle, and the sheer force of Nicolas' power sent him collapsing backwards. His shield crumbled, leaving the others unprotected.

"It will be a pleasure to kill you," Nicolas mocked.

Michael responded by stepping in front of Max and throwing his own attack, a crackle of electricity, at Nicolas. At the same time, Tess dropped to her knees next to Max and gently helped him to his feet, pulling him away from Nicolas.

Nicolas caught the electricity in his palm, taking a few steps backwards but still staying upright. Then he closed his hand into a fist, the electricity fizzled. "Nice try."

With narrowed eyes, Michael challenged, "You want Max? You're going to have to go through me first."

"As you wish," Nicolas answered icily.

"You're too late, Nicolas," Courtney said. And as he turned to look at her, she grabbed a pipe from the ground and swung it with tremendous force at the crystals cylinders. They shattered with a deafening sound, almost like an explosion.

"_No_!" Nicolas screamed, but it was too late, and his protest was soon swallowed by a groan of agony. He dropped to his knees, writhing in pain, clutching at either side of his head. He looked drawn and pale, and suddenly the incredible power that had been radiating from him was gone, replaced only by an emptiness in the air.

Then Max spun around and noticed that Courtney was on the ground as well. She was kneeling, tears slipping out from under her eyes. Her breathing was coming in irregular gasps, and she was trying hard not to cry out. But soft whimpers were escaping from between her parted lips.

She looked up at him.

"Kill… Nicolas…" she gasped.

He gaped at her. "What? But… the husks… he's going to die anyway…"

"Not soon… enough… others don't matter… will all die in time… but you can't… give him the… chance to follow… you… back to… Roswell," Courtney answered, forcing each word out with great effort.

Max swallowed. Part of him knew that she was right. Without the husks, all the skins would eventually die. But Courtney said they still had some time left, and he had sensed the power Nicolas had. He could not allow Nicolas to live long enough to fight back.  
He wasn't sure they would survive a second encounter.

"He knows… who you are…" Courtney hissed. "He can… find you. The other skins… don't know… won't be able to… follow you… without him. You need… to break his… husk… with something heavy… If the seal cracks… he dies…" She was practically lying on the floor now, barely able to stay sitting. "Max… just do… it!"

"Tess, get Courtney back to the van," Max ordered. "Michael, get Courtney's husk." He did not look at either of them as he gaze that order, but instead turned his attention back to Nicolas. So he felt, rather than saw, then nod in assent and hurry to do his bidding.

"If you're not out in two minutes," he heard Michael say, "I'm coming back for you."

"Okay," Max agreed.

And then he was alone with Nicolas.

The building around him began to shake, but Max ignored that and focused on Nicolas. He was lying against the wall, slumped forward slightly, still groaning in pain. He looked like a lost, abandoned teenage boy, not the powerful enemy Max knew him to be. And because of that, because of the skin's helplessness, Max felt his resolve wavering, starting to crack.

How could he do this when he could barely reconcile this trembling boy with the person who had been threatening to kill them just moments earlier?

"Oh, God… I can't do this… I can't…" Max breathed, looking horrified. "Please… someone help me," he murmured, having no idea who he was praying to or what answer he was really expecting.

"_Well, well, well… if it isn't a happy family reunion."_

_Max's first reaction was to push himself in front of Isabel as he warily eyed the skin. Nicolas grinned at the protective gesture, his eyes filled with malicious glee. The others in the hotel room all tensed, the skin leader's sudden appearance sending them nearly into shock._

"_Did you really think you could escape us?" Nicolas continued, his words a cruel taunt. "You and your pathetic little band of friends could never be enough to protect your son."_

"_You leave him alone!" Max snarled, waving his hand at Nicolas and sending the skin stumbling to the ground. At the same time, Isabel grabbed Max's young son from the hotel bed, holding him protectively. Michael fell into a defensive gesture, and Tess glanced quickly at the young boy in Isabel's arms, the son she shared with Max._

_Nicolas continued talking, exchanging barbs with the others, but Max wasn't listening. He kept his wary eyes on the enemy, shifting his weight constantly, ready to attack at a moment's notice. But his mind had drifted to something else, something that made his breath catch in his throat as the realization settled in heavily in the pit of his stomach._

_He knew the skins. He knew they enjoyed destroying their victims first, and Nicolas and Khivar would both do anything in the world to make him suffer. They knew his weak links, and while his son was their main target, they would not hesitate to put energy into another plan of attack. Particularly one that had the potential to cause irreparable emotional damage to the Royal Four and their human friends._

_Everyone Max cared about was in this room…_

_Except Liz._

_Liz, who he would find hours later, lying pale and sweaty in a hospital bed, her mind destroyed. The skins had gotten to her somehow, had torn away her consciousness and left her a mess of conflicting and confused emotions. Her memories gone, ripped out of her mind. Her sense of self, her identity, all taken away from her._

_And why? What purpose did it serve? The skins had nothing at all to gain from it._

_Nicolas had attacked them in that hotel room, had mocked them and taunted them and exchanged insults and barbs, all because he wanted to stall them. He had wanted to make sure they did not discover what had happened to Liz until her mind had been so damaged that she was not even aware of her surroundings. He had wanted Max to find a shattered, ruined, unrecognizable Liz._

_He had wanted to cause Max pain._

The vision was gone almost as quickly as it had come, and Max was left staring at Nicolas. His mind still protested against what he was about to do, still argued that this was wrong, that he couldn't just kill the skin. But his emotions had grabbed hold of his body, and somehow he found the strength to grab the pipe from the floor – the same pipe that Courtney had used to break the crystals – and hold it threateningly in the air above Nicolas.

Nicolas looked up, eyes widening with fear and helplessness, in too much pain to fend of the coming attack.

Was that how Liz had felt when they had attacked her? When they had stolen her mind, had she, too, gazed up at them with fear, aware of the fact that she was powerless against them?

Max pictured Liz's face, remembered the all consuming panic and pain that had rushed through him as he stared at her, at what had been done _to_ her…

And he brought the pipe down, smashing it into Nicolas' back. There was an audible crack as the husk broke, and Nicolas screamed.

And then he was, quite suddenly, nothing more than a pile of skin on the floor, slowly dissolving into dust.

Max dropped the pipe, and ran from the building.

* * *

For the first few minutes of the drive, they were all silent. Tess had snatched the keys from Max the moment he had reappeared and insisted on driving, which was probably good considering how badly Max's hands were shaking. Courtney was no longer in nearly unbearable pain, but she looked weakened and exhausted. Michael was quiet, but continued to stare at Max.

Finally, as they left the outskirts of Copper Summit behind and sped out onto the highway, Courtney asked, "Nicolas?"

"Dust," Max said, his voice oddly flat, devoid of emotion.

Courtney nodded and lapsed into silence.

After another moment of silence, Michael said, "Look, uh… Maxwell, if you want to talk about it… I know after Pierce…" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then said, "You can talk to me. If you need to. I mean… I can try to… you know… help."

Max looked at him and said sincerely, "I know."

He closed his eyes for a moment. When Nicolas had attacked, Max had honestly feared for all their lives. If Courtney hadn't broken the crystal cylinders when she did, he knew they could have easily all ended up dead. In fact, it was a miracle that they had escaped without any physical injuries.

He'd also known that if they had died, they would have gone down fighting, side-by-side. Because when it really mattered, all the arguments were forgotten. They were a family.

He glanced at Michael once more, and said, "I know you've always got my back."

"Always," Michael agreed.

* * *

Author's note: So... yes, this is actually the end of Nicolas. It isn't the end of the skins, of course, as Khivar and his entire army is still out there, but Nicolas is dead and won't have a chance to hurt them again in the future, thanks to Max.


	18. The Fourth Dimension II: Time

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: This chapter takes place over the course of about a month, so pay attention to the time-frame. There isn't much action in this chapter, but it does set up a couple very important plot points and helps to resolve *some* of the tension between our characters.  


* * *

The Fourth Dimension II: Time

_Much may be done in those little shreds and patches of time which every day produces, and which most men throw away. _

_-Charles Caleb Colton_

"So you killed him?"

Repeating the story to Isabel had been hard, but telling it to Liz was almost impossible. Isabel had promised to inform Alex of the events at Copper Summit, and Michael had begrudgingly agreed to talk to Maria, leaving Max with only Liz to tell.

But looking into her gentle brown eyes and admitting to having committed coldblooded murder…

He nodded in reply to her question, his throat too dry to form words. They were sitting at a booth in the Crashdown, long after it had closed and her parents had gone to bed. She had her hands resting on top of his, and her eyes trained solely on his face, and though she didn't say anything, he couldn't help but feel the recrimination in her gaze.

He was fairly certain he was imaging it, because if Liz was truly disgusted by his actions she would have pulled her hands away, but… but how could she not be horrified? How could she not despise him for what he had done?

He licked his lips and said hoarsely, "I thought I wasn't going to be able to. I thought… I almost left him. I almost didn't go through with it."

"What made you change your mind?" Liz asked curiously.

Max sighed heavily. "I saw… a flash, I guess. Of the future. One of them. I'm not really… I can't explain it. I just saw… I saw something Nicolas had done. Or… would do, if he wasn't stopped."

Liz's eyebrows knit together in confusion, and she asked, "You mean like the flashes Future Max had? But how is that possible? You're not… you're not from the future."

"I don't know," Max replied thoughtfully. "I haven't really had time to ponder that." He'd been too busy dwelling on other things. Like Nicolas' death.

They were both silent for a moment, then Liz questioned, "Whatever you saw… you were that desperate to prevent it?"

Max closed his eyes, picturing Liz's face, the way she had looked in that flash. So broken, so lost… so hurt. Then he opened his eyes and looked at her, remembering what she had said in the vision he had received from Tess. That she would never give up on him.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Okay," she said. She hadn't yelled at him, hadn't told him he had committed an unforgivable act, hadn't stormed away in fury and repulsion. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes and knew she was struggling to accept what he had done, what he'd been forced to do. Taking a life was a serious matter, even if it was the life of an enemy. Even if it was in self-defense.

But she didn't seem appalled. She wasn't walking away from him. She was still there, sitting in front of him, holding his hands in her own.

"So… you didn't get into any major arguments with Michael on the way there?"

Max gave a wry smile. "None that couldn't be fixed," he answered honestly. The resentment was al but gone now, replaced by the memory of Michael throwing himself between Nicolas and the hybrid king without a second thought. He knew – had known all long – that this disagreement would never change the ties that bound them all together. And even if Michael couldn't see his point of view… in the end, it didn't really matter.

He stared down at their interlocking fingers

"So we're okay?" Liz murmured, and he knew she was referring to the group in general.

Max shrugged. "I guess so," he replied, though he was still a little angry at Maria. She wasn't Michael, and though she was part of the group and one of the people he felt the undeniable need to protect, that wasn't enough for him to forgive her quite yet for her attitude.

It must have shown on his face, because Liz said, "You can cut Maria a little slack on this one, can't you? I know she's not been… I know she's treating you like… well, just think about what she's going through right now. I mean, Michael's done his best to push her away since this whole thing started, and now Courtney comes along and… and Michael's suddenly taking the help of someone who is pretty much a stranger. A stranger who worships him."

Max blinked. Put in that light, he could perfectly understand why Maria might be upset. And though he didn't like the fact that she was taking out the anger in her usual snide and sarcastic fashion, he could hardly blame her for her feelings.

He knew what it was like to have the person he loved walk away from him even as he tried to hold her closer.

But at least Liz had come back.

"Tess told me," he said after a long pause. "I saw the… conversation… you had with everyone else." He didn't elaborate, he knew he didn't need to. Liz would fill in the blanks, would know that he was referring to Tess' betrayal and her decision not to tell him.

Her grip on his hands tightened.

"I heard why you didn't want me to know right away and I… I'm not giving up on us either," he promised.

* * *

One week after the trip to Copper Summit, one week after Nicolas' death, and Max still hadn't managed to forget. He knew he never would, but some part of him hoped that the nightmares would fade and he would be able to move on with his life. The others had done their best to comfort him – Isabel with longwinded speeches and Michael with gruff comments, Maria with irrational but cheerful statements, Alex with logic, Liz with a simple, silent smile – but how could they ever erase what he had done?

Of course, with Christmas only three weeks away, there were other concerns as well. Isabel had gone crazy, as she always did at this particular time of year, and her plots and plans were enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity. And Courtney, who had recently donned her new skin, was pressuring them about keeping their end of the deal and allowing her to use the Granolith to mature the husk so that it would last for another fifty years.

But how could he think about that? How could he focus on Christmas or Courtney when all he could do was think about what he had done, what he now was.

Murderer.

He'd taken to wandering at night, slipping out of his room when he knew his parents would be asleep and walking through the silent town. Sometimes, like tonight, his footsteps would take him to the desert beyond the boarders of the town, and as he slowly climbed across the rocky landscape, he thought about Nicolas and wondered.

Had Courtney been right? Did he do the right thing, listening to her? Or was there another way? Could he have stopped Nicolas without killing him? Could he have prevented the end of the world by some other means?

And then there was Tess. He'd accepted her explanations last week, allowed himself to see the good in her. And while his distrust of her was not nearly as outspoken as Maria or Isabel's, and not as violent as Michael's, it was still there. He knew she hadn't done anything wrong yet, and Liz was determined to trust her as well, but still…

She _had_ betrayed them. Well, other versions of her had betrayed them. And while he didn't think he could hold this version of her accountable for something she had not yet done… he also didn't know how he was supposed to fully trust her.

She had helped at Copper Summit. She had truthfully answered his questions when he pressed her on the subject of her betrayal.

But she'd also lied to them for several months, keeping Nasedo's dealings with the skins a secret. And that didn't even begin to address the issue of what she had done in her efforts to tear them apart, make them follow destiny. And she'd continued to do it long after she realized that she didn't love Max.

She'd also saved him from the white room, and helped them age the bones that the geologist found in the desert to avoid throwing suspicion on Michael… She'd stayed by his side, and, ironically, it was Liz, the love of his life, his soul mate, who had ended up walking away, leaving him alone outside the pod chamber even when he swore to her that she meant more than his destiny.

But now Liz was back. Now Liz believed in them again. Now Liz wanted to be with him, had even made a promise to a future version of him that she would not ever give up on them. And Tess had pulled away, made no effort to be friends with the group over the past week. Now Tess was the one leaving them all behind.

And Nicolas was still dead.

"You know, people worry about you when they find your bedroom empty," a voice called to him.

He turned, squinting through the dim light of the moon and stars above, and watched as Isabel made her way towards him, carefully picking her steps through the rock-strewn ground.

"I almost called Michael," Isabel confided as she came closer. She studied him for a moment, searching his face. "I thought something might have happened to you."

"I'm sorry I worried you," Max said honestly.

She shrugged, chewing her bottom lip and wrapping her arms around herself to keep out the chill of the night air. "Max, if his is about Nicolas…" she started, and then stopped and sighed, obviously not sure how to frame the statement. "You could talk to Michael and I," she said finally. "We… we understand. Whitaker and Pierce…"

"It's not the same," Max protested automatically. And it _wasn't_ the same, not in anyway. Sure, all three of them had been enemies, and Nicolas was perhaps the most dangerous of them. But Michael and Isabel had both acted in self-defense. Piece had had his gun trained on the group, ready to fire, and Whitaker had been trying to kill Isabel and Tess with the crackling electricity at the end of that frayed wire. Nicolas… Nicolas had just sat their on the ground, helpless, thoroughly unable to protect himself.

It hadn't been self-defense, not the traditional definition of the term. Max hadn't been in any real danger at the moment, and he could have turned and left, allowing Nicolas…

Allowing him what? A chance to heal, to get better, to hunt them all down again?

Isabel seemed to understand his train of thought, or perhaps she just accurately read the expression on his face, because she reached out and rested her hand on his arm, "You did what you had to do, Max. There was no other choice."

"There is always a choice," Max answered, his words hard and sharp. He looked at her, then lifted his eyes to the sky, the stars stretched out above them. "I'm just not sure if I made the right one."

Isabel didn't say anything, and he wondered if there was anything she _could_ say. He doubted it, he was in no mood for useless platitudes, and what else did she have to offer?

He sat down on ground, and Isabel followed suit, settling herself by his side and resting her head on his shoulder. He remembered what it had been like when they first emerged from the cave, scared and confused. They'd been wandering in the desert for a while before they were found, and Michael had drifted off in the other direction. And even though Max had been bewildered by the world around him, even though he had wondered what had happened to his friend, he still had Isabel. And that had made him feel safe.

If only things could be that simple again.

"I'm sorry," Max said finally.

Isabel twisted her neck to the side so that she could see him properly and asked, "For what?"

"Being so… difficult… when you first told me about the, uh, future me," Max explained.

"Max, you had every right to be upset," Isabel started, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I know," he said slowly. At her confused frown, he continued, "I know I had every right to be upset. But… but you understood that. And you were apologetic for what you did… for what you _had_ to do. You didn't have a choice, not really, and I… I wasn't really mad at you. I was mad at… others… for acting as though I was being unreasonable…"

"By others, you mean Michael and Maria."

It wasn't a question, but Max answered it anyway. "Yeah, pretty much. Look, Isabel, I just… I know why you lied about future me's visit, and I know why you didn't tell me about Tess. And I didn't like it, but… I guess you didn't really… have a choice. And… as much as it hurt… you're my sister. And there is nothing you could ever do that would make me not trust and love you. I should have remembered that. I was just too busy being… feeling betrayed… to realize that I wasn't…"

His words came out jumbled, and he paused, unable to complete the thought. But Isabel knew what he was trying to say, and she squeezed his arm gently in response.

"I love you, too," she offered.

* * *

"This is a bad idea," Maria said under her breath as she followed Courtney, Michael, and Max up to the sloping desert hill towards the pod chamber. "You can't actually think she's trustworthy?"

Max bit back the urge to groan under his breath. It had been two days since his conversation with Isabel, and though he'd tried his best to focus on schoolwork and keeping his parents from being suspicious by his change in mood, he had been so easily distracted by everything else.

They were facing so many problems, problems that he couldn't fix. But thought he didn't like doing this, he honestly didn't see how they could go back on their promise. But the simple fact that they had made this promise did not ease his concerns, however, and Maria's litany of reasons why this was a bad idea did not help the situation.

So part of him wished Maria would just shut up already.

"I think she's a lot more of a threat to us if we go back on our part of the bargain," Michael answered.

"You do realize that I'm standing right here, don't you?" Courtney asked, looking between the two hybrids and the human with an annoyed expression. "So how about we don't talk about me like I can't understand what you're saying?"

"You don't get to make the decisions," Maria snapped.

"Look," Max said forcefully, "we're going through with this. Courtney proved herself trustworthy at Copper Summit, and we made a promise."

"So you're just going to lead her to the… whatever that thing is called?" Maria demanded, shaking her head as though it was the stupidest idea in the world.

Which, Max thought to himself, it might have been.

"The Granolith," Michael supplied, but Maria didn't seem to be paying any attention anymore. She was simply glaring at Courtney, her gaze frosty and suspicious.

Max slanted a quick look at Courtney and silently assessed Michael's earlier comment. The rebel skin probably was a lot more of a threat to them if they turned their backs on her. She knew too much, and what was to stop her from taking that information to their enemies? It seemed as though the only way to keep her on their side was to give in to her request.

The other option was to kill her, and then she'd never be a threat, but Max couldn't bring himself to even _think_ of that idea.

He had asked Isabel to dream-walk Courtney, which she had willingly agreed to, and found nothing suspicious in Courtney's mind. Which either meant that the rebel skin was trustworthy… or that she was skilled at hiding her thoughts, even when asleep. He hoped it was the first one, but he knew he couldn't ignore the second possibility.

Still, he couldn't quite reconcile his actions now with the suspicion he had first had upon hearing that she was a skin. He had only known her for a number of weeks, and certainly mistrusted her in the beginning. And now… now he was actually going to show her the Granolith?

It seem so bizarre.

But, he reasoned, if she wanted to betray them, she could do it with or without knowledge of the Granolith's location.

Which, in retrospect, was not all that comforting.

"We're here," Max said abruptly, looking up and finding the outside of the pod chamber rising above them.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Maria repeated, one last warning before they crossed the point of no return.

"You really shouldn't even be here," Michael said, giving Maria a look. "Why don't you go back and wait at the car?"

"No, absolutely not," Maria protested immediately. "I did not walk all the way up here just so you could tell me to leave."

"I told you I didn't want you here in the first place," Michael growled. "It's not my fault you refused to listen." He turned to glower at Max as he added, "And not my fault Maxwell decided you could come."

"She wanted to help, and I don't see how this puts her in any danger," Max answered simply. In truth, he was hoping Maria's presence might somehow jolt Michael out of his current bitter mood. The taciturn hybrid had been in a foul temper for a while, and when Liz had explained that Michael had decided to keep his distance from Maria in an effort to keep her safe, it became abundantly clear to Max why his friend was so gloomy.

It had been Isabel's plan to push Michael and Maria together, of course, because she was the type to interfere in their lives when she decided they were being idiots about something. And she had pretty much forced him into it, although in the beginning he'd had no objection to helping out his friend. But though Maria's constant complaints and suspicions about Courtney were making him seriously regret the idea…

It was too late to revoke the invitation now.

He waved his hand over the hidden handprint in the rock, then opened the entrance to the cave. They filed in quickly, climbing through the narrow entrance into the chamber that held the Granolith.

The cave sealed shut behind them.

Courtney edged closer to it, eyes wide with awe. "Wow…" she breathed. "Can you _feel_ that power?"

"Yes," Max answered.

"Let's just get this over with," Michael said quickly.

Max nodded, reaching out towards the black cone that served as the base of the Granolith. His hands brushed over the smooth surface, his fingers lightly tracing the alien symbols carved into the side.

And then it hit him, suddenly and with great force. A feeling he couldn't describe, an echo of something that nearly sent him stumbling backwards with its intensity. He reeled, collecting himself, but when it became clear that he was the only one affected by it, he tried his best to keep it hidden.

Michael was already starting the process, and Courtney had her eyes closed, waiting for the alien artifact to work its magic on her husk. Maria was watching the whole thing in dismay, and Max…

Max continued to stare at the Granolith, and wonder.

* * *

One week later, Max was once again standing in front of the Granolith with his hands resting on the black cone-shaped base. It was vibrating with the same intensity that it had before, and there was something inexplicably familiar about it. He couldn't describe the sensation that was twisting and turning in the vicinity of his heart, but it was strangely alien and hauntingly family… and vividly strong.

It was drawing him in, as though there was something he was supposed to figure out. It was pulling at him, tugging in all directions, and he swallowed back the urge to voice his questions aloud. He didn't know what he would have said. He didn't even know what the questions were.

But they were there, in the energy that hummed between his palms and the flat metal of the Granolith. The questions and the answers.

And they left him with vague and clouded thoughts.

* * *

"So… you first felt it when you guys helped Courtney mature her husk?" Liz asked, a contemplative expression on her features as she gazed at Max. If she had been at all surprised by his sudden appearance at her window, she did not show it. She had simply let him come into her room, and he'd blurted out his story, and now he was sitting on her bed as she tried to make sense of what he had told her.

"Yes," Max answered, rubbing his hands up and down over his arms. He couldn't explain the sudden chill, but it was definitely there, making him shiver.

"And then you went back yesterday and… same thing?" Liz pressed.

Max nodded.

Liz was silent for a beat, thinking, then asked, "How is Courtney, by the way? Maria said the… whatever you guys did… was successful, but I haven't seen Courtney around much. Just during her shift at the diner, and it never seems like a good idea to talk to her about it in a room of people."

Max smiled at the dry comment and agreed, "No, I don't suppose it would be." He thought about Courtney as he answered, "She's fine. Maria's right, everything worked. Courtney should be good for another fifty years."

"So… that's good, right?"

"I think so," Max answered, though he didn't really know for certain. But he saw no reason to burden Liz with his conflicted thoughts, so he remained quiet.

"Can you describe this feeling again?" Liz asked, turning back to the issue at hand.

He'd already described it, several times. But he didn't mind Liz asking, and he knew that every time he repeated his explanation, she listened with intense concentration as though she might learn something new. She was really trying to find an answer for him, and that made his confusion somewhat easier to bear.

"It was as though… I could _feel_ that something was different. Not like a flash, I wasn't seeing the future. But I felt… Nicolas." He had to force himself to say the hated name, because even after all this time, the word got stuck in his throat.

"But not as though he were alive?" Liz questioned. She'd asked that before, too, but Max knew why she was so determined to make sure he remained dead. They'd lost a lot to that particular skin, or at least they would, in the future. And they both wanted to make sure that didn't happen.

"No. Well, not really. It was as though… things were supposed to happen, and they didn't," Max said, picking his words slowly. "If Nicolas had been alive… it was like I was remembering what it felt like when… when he was alive. In some other future, when he was alive and he came after us." He trailed off with a sheepish grin, and said, "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

Liz laughed and shook her head. "Not really, but that's why you came to me, isn't it? To make sense out of this?"

"Yeah… but I don't know what I thought you could do," Max replied grimly, leaning back against the wall, pulling his knees into his chest. "How can you make sense of something I can't even really explain?"

Liz considered this for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know, but we'll figure it out." She continued to stare at him as she thought over his words, and then she asked, "Did you get any specific feelings about what would have happened… if you hadn't killed Nicolas?"

Max closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Sort of. Mostly fear. I didn't see any images, but… we were afraid. The four of us, Michael, Isabel, Tess, and I."

"Makes sense," Liz pointed out logically. "If you were attacked by the skins, of course you would be afraid." She crossed the floor and sat down next to him on the bed. "Look, Max, I can't pretend to understand how the Granolith works. Or even what it really _is_. But I know that when the Future Max came to visit us, he told us stories about what Nicolas had done. All the people he had killed. Next to Khivar, he was the greatest threat out there. So maybe the Granolith is just telling you that… you made the right choice. It wasn't good or fair or decent because killing someone never really is, but it _was_ necessary. You protected us."

He sighed and agreed reluctantly, "I suppose. But it doesn't seem right… punishing Nicolas for something he didn't do yet." It was the problem with having knowledge of the future, and it plagued them all with both Tess and Courtney. How could they punish someone for crimes not yet committed, how could they trust someone when the trust was not yet earned?

But how could the ignore the knowledge of what had happened in that future? How could they pretend that it didn't matter when it so clear did? When those same actions could be taken again and the same results could be reached? Wasn't it irresponsible not to do something to prevent future wrongs?

"Wasn't he responsible for your deaths on Antar?" Liz countered. "He was part of Khivar's forces, wasn't he?"

"Yeah… I guess so."

"If I learned anything from Future Max, I learned that we are at war. It might not be out in the open, might not be filled with armies and weaponry and all that… but we _are_ at war," Liz said softly. "And sometimes, in a war, you have to do things you wouldn't otherwise do."

"Doesn't make it easier."

"No," Liz agreed, "I suppose it doesn't."

* * *

Nearly two weeks later, Max found himself standing with Michael in the middle of a Christmas tree lot, trying to find a suitable tree to fit Isabel's exacting demands. It was cold, the wind biting into their skin, somehow getting past their warm clothes. It was nearly cold enough to snow, but it never snowed in Roswell, so Max wasn't really expecting anything.

"Come on, Maxwell," Michael grumbled, bouncing on his toes in an effort to keep warm. "Just pick a tree. It's freezing out here."

Max rolled his eyes, thinking that Michael really should have known it wouldn't be that easy. He knew Isabel, after all, and had witnessed the type of person she became each Christmas. "It's not so simple. This tree's got to fall within certain parameters. Height, circumference, color, density of foliage. Look at this diagram. You know how Isabel gets this time of year."

Michael groaned. "The Christmas Nazi, driving everyone insane while trying to have the perfect Christmas. The worst thing you can do is play into it, Max. You've got to fight her." Max didn't look convinced, and Michael repeated emphatically, "You've _got_ to fight the Christmas Nazi."

The sound of screeching tires caught their attention, and Max turned in time to see a car veer sharply and lose control, spinning towards a little girl standing near the edge of the road. He watched in numb horror as the girl's father sprinted forward and shoved her out of the way, putting himself directly in the path of the car instead.

He hit the front bumper and rolled onto the hood before falling off the car and coming to land on the ground several feet from his daughter.

"Daddy! Daddy!" the girl screamed, her small face scrunched with horror, tears already forming in her eyes.

Max took an involuntary step towards the man, and felt Michael's hand close firmly around his arm. The father was still alive, though barely just, but if Max could just reach him in time…

"Maxwell," Michael said sharply, his tone worried.

"Someone, call an ambulance!"

"He's not breathing!"

The shouts of the other bystanders only barely registered with Max, who was too caught up in his own guilt and grief. He had the ability to heal, but he couldn't save this man, not without exposing them all. A father who had sacrificed his own life to save his daughter… and Max was going to just let him die.

He would be responsible for yet another death.

"Let's go," Michael said, pulling Max forcefully away from the scene.

Max swallowed uneasily and continued to stare at the sobbing girl as Michael lead him away.

And he continued to think of Nicolas.

* * *

Later the following evening, Max found himself standing across the street from the house of the man who had been killed. Several carolers where there, and he caught sight of Maria's blonde hair bobbing among the singers. The sounds of Jingle Bells filled the air, drifting towards him, and he smiled, but the lump in his throat remained as he watched the wife and children of the deceased man.

"What are you doing here?"

Max turned, eyes wide, searching out the sound of the voice. His eyes grew even wider as they landed on the man standing a few steps away from him. It was the father of the little girl, the one who was now dead. The one whose widow and children were now listening to carolers on the other side of the street.

He was standing there, vivid and real, though Max knew that was not possible.

He answered the ghost anyway, because what else could he do? "I just want to make sure they're all right," he said, looking over his shoulder.

"They're not alright," the ghost said bitterly, almost laughing at the absurdity of the comment.

"If I had exposed myself last night, there are people I would have put at risk," Max defended himself.

The ghost snorted and replied, "But it was alright for you to heal Liz Parker?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Because I know everything in your mind, heart, and soul, Max. I know it all."

Despite the absurdity of the situation, despite the fact that he was standing in the chilly night air, talking to the ghost of a man he had seen killed the night before, Max didn't doubt for a moment that this was real. "I will look after your children," he promised, as though somehow that would be enough. "I swear."

"For how long?" the ghost asked softly.

"Until they're okay," Max replied, but even as he spoke the words, he knew that it was a pointless promise, and he knew the ghost would point out the flaw in his plan.

And sure enough…

"They'll never be okay, Max," the ghost retorted. "Don't you understand that? They lost their father last night."

Max gave the ghost a long look, then turned away, leaving the widow and her children behind. The sounds of Jingle Bells followed him as he walked away, his feet taking him automatically in one direction even though he didn't consciously think about it.

But he was not surprised to find himself standing in front of the Crashdown several minutes later.

Liz came to the door and opened it, letting him in, and there was a look of expectancy in her eyes. He only wished he could explain why this bothered him so much, wished he could put into words the feeling that had wrapped itself so tightly around his chest the moment he saw that man die.

"What is it?" Liz asked, seeing his expression. There was real fear in her voice, and he knew she was expecting news of an impending attack or something else alien.

He sank into a chair at the nearest table. "The man who was killed… last night…"

"I know, I read about it in the paper," Liz replied sympathetically. "It was horrible, wasn't it?"

Max lifted haunted eyes to her face and said, "I was _there_, Liz. There was a crowd, a huge crowd, and everyone was watching, and I...I...I could have healed him, but I didn't."

"Max, listen to me," Liz said emphatically, siding into the seat opposite him and grabbing his hands to hold his attention. "You can't hold yourself responsible for that man's life."

"He gave his life for his daughter!" Max almost exploded. "And I… I let him die. I could have saved him. He wasn't Nicolas or a skin, he wasn't a threat to him. His death wasn't _necessary_. So how could I just… do nothing?"

"If you healed him," Liz countered, her tone as soft as his had been angry, "you would have exposed Michael, Isabel, and Tess."

As Liz spoke, Max turned his head slightly and saw the ghost appear behind the brunette waitress. The hybrid king gazed at the ghost for a moment, knowing that it wasn't real, but knowing that it also wasn't going away. Somehow, this thing… this figment of his imagination… was refusing to leave him alone.

"Well, that's the sugar-coated version, Max," the ghost drawled, referring to Liz's comment about endangering the other three hybrids, "but why don't you tell her what you were really thinking?"

Max sighed and looked at Liz again, his eyes filling with unshed tears. "I wasn't thinking about Michael and Isabel and Tess," he admitted. "I was thinking about myself in the white room and being tortured. I didn't heal that man, because I was protecting myself. Why couldn't I trade my life for his?"

"Max, you can't do this to yourself," Liz protested weakly, and though her words were logical and rational, it was almost as though she, too, had realized that logic and reason were not going to help. Not while Max refused to listen.

And so her pleas fell on deaf ears.

"He's haunting me, Liz," Max whispered as the ghost began to sing _Amazing Grace_. The haunting melody filled with the room, echoing through the diner, and Max had to fight back the urge to press his hands to his ears.

He had a feeling it wouldn't have done any good, anyway. He'd still hear the song.

Liz frowned at his quiet confession. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"He comes to me," Max said dully, his eyes fixed on the ghost. Liz waved her hand in front of his eyes, and he looked at her, blinking several times. "I see him."

Liz' s frown grew, and she asked finally, "You mean you _literally_ see him?"

"I'm not leaving you, Max," the ghost promised, and though he had finally stopped his singing, his words offered little comfort. "I've got no place to go. You need to restore the balance."

"Max?" Liz pressed, now sounding frightened. "Max, talk to me. Please."

He looked at her, eyes intensely bright with a sudden purpose. "I need to restore the balance."

* * *

Of course, knowing what he needed to do in the abstract and actually doing it in the concrete were two entirely different things. He had no idea how to restore the balance, or what it even really meant to do that. Was he simply supposed to save another innocent life? Who and when and how?

The answer did not come until the following day, and it was Liz who provided it. At the Christmas Pageant – yet again, one of Isabel's many activities – Liz approached him with an odd expression on her face. He turned away from the stage, it wasn't as though he was listening to anything Isabel was saying anyway, and gave Liz a questioning look.

"What is it?"

"Maria's gone off the deep end," Liz said, looking troubled. "Michael's pushed her away enough that she's actually seriously thinking of getting Brody to propose to her."

Max's eyebrows shot into the air at that bit of information. "Propose? She wants to _marry_ him? Does she even know him that well?"

"She brings him lunch almost every day," Liz answered with a shrug. "He always orders from the Crashdown." She ran a hand through her hair and looked back at her pixie blonde friend. Maria was talking to Alex, and although the conversation looked cheerful enough, it was evident that she was upset.

"What did Michael do this time?" Max asked with a weary sigh.

"Refusing to get her a present. Says he doesn't get anyone Christmas presents, and he doesn't see why she should be any different," Liz muttered, sounding more than just a little displeased. Then her expression changed, and she said, "But this isn't why I came over here."

"Oh?"

"Maria said that Brody's daughter is sick," Liz explained, nodding towards the brown-haired child that was currently standing on the stage, dressed in her costume, a wide smile on her unnaturally pale face. "Her name is Sidney and she has cancer. It's in the bone marrow, so that makes it inoperable."

"Is it terminal?" Max asked, watching the little girl carefully.

"Yes," Liz said, and Max let his gaze wander away from Sydney. He scanned the crowd for a moment until finally finding Brody. His eccentric boss was sitting in the middle of the crowd, a heartbreakingly proud smile on his face. How many more Christmases would he have with his daughter? Or would this be his last?

As Max watched Brody, the dead man's ghost appeared, a smile on his features. "Looks like we have a plan."

Max nodded slowly, but then his expression darkened and he said, "Michael and Isabel won't go for it." His words were firm, and stated with the full assurance of someone who felt no need to question anything. He knew his sister and his best friend, and he doubted their reactions would be supportive.

"Maybe if you just tell them why it is so important to you," Liz offered tentatively. "At the very least, they should hear you out."

He was silent as he digested her suggestion. His eyes moved to Sydney again, and his gaze followed her until she trooped off the stage with the rest of the children. The audience burst into applause, but Max barely paid it any attention. Instead, he looked at Isabel, and wondered.

His sister was fawning over all the children, giving them hugs and telling them that they had done a spectacular job. The parents were milling around, talking to each other, congratulating Isabel, and collecting their children.

"Go talk to her," Liz urged, patting his shoulder.

Max nodded and slipped away from her, walking through the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michael and Maria arguing, then watched as Michael stormed away, moving towards Isabel as well. Talking to an irate Michael wasn't exactly ideal, but…

As Michael approached Isabel, Max watched Liz cross to Maria's side and murmur something to her. Whatever it was she said, it did not succeeded in its intended goal of comforting Maria, and the abrasive blonde stormed in the other direction with Liz hurrying to keep up.

Running a hand through his hair, Max carefully stepped through he mass of young children until he was standing next to his sister and Michael.

"…Christmas, Michael. I don't see why you have to be so…"

"What, Isabel? What is it I'm doing wrong. I don't want to be with Maria. Okay? I don't want to be with her, period, and Christmas isn't going to change that."

"Max!" Isabel exclaimed, turning to him with a pleading look, "Can you possibly talk some sense into him?" And she jerked her head at Michael in an annoyed gesture.

"Actually, I need to talk to both of you," Max said quietly, "in private." Fear and concern mingled in Isabel's gaze, and Michael's eyebrows rose into his hairline. The reactions were not unexpected, and Max silently reprimanded himself for not starting the conversation by assuring them that everything was okay. He rushed to say, "It's fine, everyone is fine. But I do need to talk to you about something… Czechoslovakian."

"Sure, give me a couple minutes to say goodbye to some more parents," Isabel replied, looking around. "Have you seen Mom and Dad?"

"Yeah. I'll tell them that we're going to hang out with Michael for a bit and they should go home without us," Max said, and Isabel nodded absently.

It took only a few minutes to track down his parents and assure them that he and Isabel would be home at a reasonable hour, but every second seemed to drag on for an eternity. Now that he finally had a plan, each delay was almost unbearable.

Still, it was only ten minutes later that the three of them were walking away from the pageant, Isabel fiddling with her hair and Michael still grumbling about his argument with Maria. They walked in silence for a few minutes, not going anywhere in particular, and once they were finally out of earshot of anyone else, Isabel stopped and turned to Max with an expectant gaze.

"Sydney Davis is dying," Max said simply, "and I want to heal her."

"I… you… _what_?"

"She has cancer. It is terminal, inoperable. I… she's just a kid. I want to…"

"You heal her, and you leave behind a silver handprint, a nice, big clue saying there are aliens in Roswell," Michael said incredulously, interrupting Max's explanation with his own fierce refusal. "Are you trying to lead the FBI to us?"

"Nasedo destroyed all the records from the special unit," Max argued. "It's possible no one even knows who we are or what the silver handprint is."

His words did not give any reassurance to Michael, who continued to glower darkly at the idea. Isabel's expression was unreadable, but she asked noncommittally, "Why is this so important to you?"

"I have to… I _killed_ Nicolas. I just… he was helpless and I… I killed him…" Max broke off, looking away towards the rest of the town. "And then I let that other man die after he had already sacrificed his life for his daughter. I… I can't just… I can't _not_ help her."

"Even at the risk of putting the rest of us in danger?" Michael snapped.

Max let out a slow breath and answered honestly, "Look, I know what I'm asking here is big. There are a million reasons not to do this and only one reason to do it. I _need_ to." He paused, gave a slight shrug and looked at them both, waiting for a reaction. "I don't know what else to say."

When Isabel spoke, her words were hesitant, but she held his gaze without wavering. "What we've been through this past year, it's taken a lot away from us. I think maybe that sort of thing starts to take its toll, you know, on our human side... So if you feel you need to do this, then I'm behind you, Max."

"Well, I'm not," Michael said sharply. Isabel and Max both turned to face him, and he defended himself, "Hey, we're here for a reason, Max. So call me a selfish jerk, but I don't think we should risk everything just so you can feel a little bit better about yourself at Christmas."

"Michael…" Max started, and then stopped, unsure how to continue.

"But you already made your decision," Michael continued, his features hard and frustrated. I know you did, I can hear it in your voice. So why don't you just go do what you're going to do...and make sure you don't screw up."

* * *

And then everything had somehow become quite a bit more complicated. Max had broken into Brody's house, only to be informed by the ghost that the Sydney had been rushed to a hospital in Phoenix. So Max had decided to follow her to the hospital and try to heal her there. But he'd also opted to inform Michael of his decision…

And Michael had insisted on coming along, just to make sure they didn't get into any trouble.

Which was why they were now dressed in scrubs, standing outside the door to the Sydney's hospital room.

"One knock means be on your guard," Michael muttered, keeping his voice low as he glanced around the hallway nervously. "Two knocks means the coast is clear… and three will mean we're screwed."

Max licked his dry lips and nodded. "Right," he replied, acknowledging the instructions. He folded his arms over his chest, drumming his fingers against his shirt as he did so. "Michael… thank you. For… doing this."

"Don't thank me yet," Michael answered grimly, "we're not out of danger until we're safely out of this building. Now go. And hurry."

Max nodded resolutely and walked past Michael, pushing open the door and stepping into the room. There were several beds lined up against the far wall, some with curtains hanging in between them. Children, he noted numbly, who were already so close to death. Were they all cancer victims like Sydney?

He scanned the beds until he found Sydney, and approached her quietly. She was only half-asleep, and as he paused at her side, her eyelids flickered slightly. She looked at him, large brown eyes clouded with sleep, so innocent and childlike.

"Shh," Max whispered, "it's okay."

"Who are you?" Sydney asked in her high-pitched voice. Her words were slurred a little, exhaustion making it difficult for her to speak. She had to blink several times to keep her eyes open, and it was clear she was losing the battle against her body's need to sleep.

"I'm just a dream," Max answered. "Go back to sleep."

This seemed enough for Sydney, and she allowed her eyes to drift shut with the naïve trust of a child. Max reached out, tentatively at first, letting his hand rest on her chest. Her eyes flickered open for a moment at the feel of his touch, but then she yawned and relaxed into the bed.

_He could see Sydney. She was running and laughing, chasing her father around the house. She was tripping on the stairs and skinning her knees on the cement of her driveway. She was sitting on the cold metal table in the pediatric oncologist's office, not understanding why both her parents were in tears. She was missing out on so much… she'd never learn to ride a bike, she'd never have a first kiss, she'd never have an argument with her mother, never break her father's curfew… the good and the bad. She'd miss out on all of it. _

_But maybe she would. He could see her again, this time older, smiling shyly on the first day of middle school. Her hair in two braids, her backpack slung over one shoulder, waving goodbye as she turned and walked into the school building…_

Max opened his eyes and pulled his hand away from her. She was wide awake now, and thoroughly confused. But Max knew he didn't have time to explain anything to her, and it wasn't as though she would understand anyway. He turned to go, moving towards the door, but his eyes fell on the boy in the bed next to Sydney.

The boy had blonde hair and pale skin. His eyes were closed, but his sleep did not appear to be restful. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and a line of tension ran down his neck.

The sound of a firm knock caught Max's attention, and he looked towards the door. Michael's warning signal, telling him to be on his guard.

He bit his lip. He needed to leave. Both of them needed to leave.

But…

How could he walk away now?

He reached out towards the child, his fingers running along the boy's chest until his entire hand was pressed flat against the cotton pajamas. The boy stirred, shifting slightly under the unexpected pressure, and Max watched him until…

_The boy grinned and chased after the frog that was currently jumping around the house. The boy's older sister was shrieking, standing on one of the chairs in an effort to get away from the small green amphibian. The boy's mother was scolding him, while the boy's father did his best to hide his laughter behind one hand and calm the still frightened sister…_

Max gasped for breath, his vision suddenly growing blurry. He stumbled, barely able to keep himself upright, and had to hold onto one of the beds to stay upright. The world twisted and turned, and he was growing dizzy…

"Are you an angel?" another child asked, a girl in the bed opposite Sydney. She had blonde hair in pigtails, and bright blue eyes, and an awed, trusting smile. She watched him, her gaze never wavering even as he came closer and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Go back to sleep," he murmured, pushing her hair away from her eyes gently.

She lay down obediently, but did not close her eyes. Instead, she continued to watch him, and he suddenly thought of Nicolas. Nicolas, who had stared up at him with a horrified gaze, so unlike this child's sweetly smiling expression. But both Nicolas and the girl had been powerless to change their fate. One had died, and one would live… all because of Max.

His stomach twisted, tightening into knots. He didn't want to think about Nicolas anymore, didn't want to remember…

But he knew he'd never forget.

He focused instead on healing the child, on ending her suffering and giving her a chance to live a full and healthy life.

_He watched her as she carefully practiced her writing, forming each letter with precision so that her teacher would be proud. Watched her as she learned how to jump rope. Watched her as she poured tea for her dolls and invited her friends to the tea party. Watched as she learned how to color, her crayon drawings go far outside the lines of the book she had been given..._

He could barely separate flashes from reality anymore. His heart beat frantically within his ribcage, threatening to explode, and he gasped for breath, trying to fill his lungs with oxygen which seemed nearly unattainable. He continued to heal, moving from one bed to the next, everything blurring in and out of focus and blending together, swimming before his eyes.

He stumbled and fell away from yet another bed, collapsing to the floor. He was dimly aware of Michael entering the room and locking the door form inside. He heard Michael yell his name, but it sounded far away and out of focus, and he struggled to make it to the next bed, the next child…

"Open this door! Now!" The order came from outside of the room, and Max twisted on the ground and looked uncomprehendingly towards the door. He'd healed seven children, and his powers were rapidly fading, exhaustion settling into every part of his body, making it hard to move.

Michael grabbed his shoulders and pulled him around, and Max looked up at his friend's worried gaze.

"Max! Maxwell!"

There was more banging on the door, and the sound of something smashing heavily against the wall.

And then Max was dimly aware of Michael whispering, "If there's a God, please help us now," before everything went black.

* * *

"So I hear you went to Phoenix."

Max leaned against the frame of Liz's window and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I guess I should be glad Michael came with me. I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't gotten us out of that room."

"Climbing through a window with your semi-conscious body was probably not how he envisioned spending his evening," Liz said with a faint smile. "I'm glad he was there, too."

Max shivered slightly, pulling at his sweatshirt. "Thank you… for telling me about Sydney."

Liz studied his expression for a long moment, then asked, "Are you still haunted?"

Max shook his head. "I don't think so," he replied. The weight in his chest had lifted slightly, and no longer was the same anxiety squeezing so tightly around his heart. It would be little comfort to the widow and the children of the deceased man, but at least it would help others. This time Max hadn't been forced to just watch people die.

"Healing all those kids…" Liz began, pausing to catch his eye, "why did you do it?"

"After healing Sydney, I… I looked at the face of the boy lying next to her," Max explained, "And I just thought… how can I not… how can I not use my gift?"

"As beautiful as that is, Max… you can't keep doing it. I know it seems like there's no reason for those kids to have cancer or for a father to get killed saving his or for any of it… but maybe there is. Maybe there is someone or something out there that's planning all this, and maybe you have to respect it."

They were pretty words, but they offered no substance, no real meaning. To Max, it would never matter if there was a grand design, if there was something akin to fate or destiny or God planning each and every one of these events. He had the power to heal. Why would he have been given this gift if he was not allowed to use it?

Nicolas was still dead. That was the one thing none of this had changed, and though Max hadn't really expected the guilt to lessen, it was hard to accept the fact that it hadn't. Healing Sydney could not erase what he had done, the life that he had deliberately taken. It didn't matter that there were children who now had futures thanks to him, because Nicolas' blood still stained his hands, the metaphorical symbol of his implicit blame.

"You're not God," Liz continued. "Max, you're the one who told me that."

Max bit back the bitter taste of remorse and nodded, but he had a feeling that Liz could see right through his façade of acceptance. He might not be God, but he had been forced to take another life, to make a choice that would forever alter one person's existence. Nicolas was dead because of him, and he had the sinking suspicion that this would not be the only life he would be forced to take in this war.

He might not be God…

But then why did it feel as though the weight of the entire planet – this one _and_ Antar – rested solely on his shoulders?

"I don't believe in God," he said finally. "Merry Christmas, Liz."

"Merry Christmas, Max," Liz replied, and then she shut the window, and he turned and climbed back down to the alley below her room.


	19. The Fifth Dimension II: Negativity

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: So, a couple people have wanted to know what is going to happen with Michael and Maria. I meant to get to them in this chapter, but it got a little too long. So they will definitely be in the chapter after this. Also, this chapter takes place about a week after the last one, and covers another week. So we're about halfway through January by the end of this update.

* * *

The Fifth Dimension II: Negativity

_It's the simplest properties that will help you clear yourself of negativity ... The profound power of a simple prayer. The strength of a deep breath. The gentle guidance of good music._

_- Jeffrey Wands_

_Max struggled, pulling at the ropes that tied him tightly to the pillar. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Isabel and Tess, and he knew Michael was somewhere behind him. They were all in the same predicament, trapped, surrounded by skins._

_Nicolas stood before him, his teenage-looking face filled with contempt. "What happened to you, man?" he asked, staring hard at Max. "You used to determine the fate of entire armies with the flip of a coin." He started to pace, shaking his head as he walked back and forth before his four prisoners. "Luckily for me, you continue to put your faith in the wrong people."_

_Max bit his lip, forcing himself to remain quiet, to ignore the urge to scream at the enemy skin._

_Nicolas smiled at Isabel as he continued smoothly, "Does this scene feel familiar, Vilandra?" _

_Max twisted his head sharply to look at his sister, a question in his eyes, but Isabel was staring determinedly at Nicolas, ignoring everything else around her._

_The skin in question let his gaze slide past Isabel to Michael. "And your trusted second...the boy who spilled the secret of the Granolith to one of our exiled members. Rule number one of war: keep your big mouth shut. Courtney knew that. That's why she killed herself before I could get its exact location." He paused, giving Michael a critical look, before adding dryly, "By the way, love the hair. Hope you win."_

_Max continued to pull his arms forward in a futile attempt to loosen the restraints around his wrists. The rope bit into his skin, rubbing the wrong way, but he ignored the pain. He had to get out of this, had to find a way to stop Nicolas before…_

"_There's one more thing I need to know before we can call it a day," Nicolas said softly, dangerously. Eyes snapped back to Max, and the hybrid king met the gaze with his own unyielding stare. "Where's the Granolith?" Nicolas asked._

"_I'm not telling you," Max said stoutly._

_Nicolas smirked, clearly confident in his ability to get what he wanted. "Oh… you will." Still smirking at Max, he waved his hand carelessly at the other three. Isabel and Tess started screaming in pain, and though Michael was able to hold out for a few moments, he, too, succumbed to whatever Nicolas was doing and started groaning._

_Panic rushed through Max at the sound of his sister and friends in pain. This was all his fault, he was supposed to protect them. He was the leader, the king. He was supposed to keep them safe, to lead them through this war. And he'd failed. He'd allowed them to be captured and now tortured._

_He yanked harder at the ropes, snarling at Nicolas. The sound was almost inhuman with its intensity, but Nicolas did not even flinch._

"_Wait!" Max called, finally forcing the words from his dry throat. "I'll take you there. Just you and me. This has nothing to do with them."_

_Of course, it had everything to do with the three of them, but Max didn't care about that. If he could just get Nicolas out of the school, away from the other three… he knew he wouldn't be able to defeat the skin in any kind of fight, but maybe he could hold him off long enough for the others to escape from the skins…_

_Maybe they could come up with a way to save Liz, Maria, Kyle, and Alex._

_Maybe they could come up with a way to protect the Granolith._

"_Max, don't," Isabel cautioned sharply. Her voice sounded odd, distant and filled with pain. Her breathing was labored, but Max turned to look at her and she gaze was firm, her eyes begging. Because she knew that he was willing to sacrifice his own life to keep them all safe… and she was pleading with him not to._

_Nicolas laughed and commented, "This is too easy. In the old days, I would've been no match for you. But now…" He stepped forward and grabbed Max's head, hands resting flat on either side of the hybrid's face. Max felt something pulling at his mind, and then a burst if pain sent the world spinning on its axis and dots of color started dancing in front of his eyes._

_He wasn't aware of the fact that he was making any noise at all, until he heard his own strangled voice moaning incoherent syllables as he fought against the pain._

_He saw images. He was talking to Isabel, he was arguing with Michael, he was kissing Liz. The flashes came and went quickly, in a jumbled, confused order. The pain intensified, he had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly against the agonizing light. It was all beyond his control, though some little voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him that he had to get in control, and quickly, or Nicolas would find…_

_And image of the Granolith floated into his mind and he felt, rather than saw, Nicolas' triumphant smile._

"_Either way you're going to die, Max," Nicolas said softly, lowering her voice into a malicious whisper. "So why don't you just make this easy on yourself? Hmm?"_

_Max forced himself to breath, to focus on the slow, rhythmic inhale and exhale, the rise and fall of his chest. He could feel Nicolas in his mind again, but he gathered his strength, erecting mental barriers around his memories. Nicolas' power grew, expanding rapidly against the unexpected resistance, but Max pressed back. He couldn't hold off the skin for long, but he wasn't going to give up without a fight._

_Something seemed to explode in his mind. A white-hot, searing flash of pain, as though his mind was being burned, and then a sharp eruption of agony, like a knife twisting into his brain. The mental ache deepened, and he bit back a scream._

"_Ready to tell me now?" Nicolas taunted._

_Max heard a scream, and for a moment he thought it was his. But it was shrill and strange, echoing with desperation, and he realized that it could not possibly be coming from him. He opened his eyes slowly, and was met with a bright orange light, a raging fire swirling in the air behind Tess._

_The petite blonde had her eyes shut tightly as she conjured the fire, and it crackled and hissed in the air, before releasing itself on the unprotected circle of skins…_

"Max! Max, wake up!"

Isabel's voice penetrated his consciousness just as the fire filled the air around Tess, and he found himself sitting in his own bed, drenched in sweat. Isabel was leaning over him, worry in her eyes, and both his parents were hovering in the doorway, looking surprised and concerned.

It was a dream. All a dream.

But it had been so vivid, so real, and his head still throbbed, a dull ache left from Nicolas' powers. He was shaking, he realized a moment later, and his hands were clenched tightly into fists, fingers intertwined with the cloth of his bedspread.

"Max? Honey?"

He stared at his mother, only dimly aware of her words. He could still see Nicolas standing before him, his young face twisted with mocking laughter as he held out his hand and tormented the four hybrids. He could hear Isabel's desperate cries, and though he could stare at her now and see that she was fine, it was hard to convince himself that she wasn't still in danger.

It was just a dream.

So then why did it feel so genuine, why did his body still ache from the fight?

"Max?" Isabel asked, her tone gentle, but with an undercurrent of demand.

He looked at her and shook his head. "Just a bad dream," he said, forcing the words out of his scratchy throat. He looked over at both his parents and flushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you…"

"You were screaming," his father said bluntly. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Max licked his lips. He was quite positive that he was _not_ alright, but he couldn't tell them that. He couldn't explain to them that he was being haunted by dreams of the enemy alien he had killed only a little more than a month ago…

Somehow, he didn't think it would go over that well.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dad," he said wearily, running a hand through his hair. "It was just a nightmare."

Isabel was perched on the edge of his bed now, and she shifted positions and frowned at him. Her gaze was searching, and she obviously did not believe his answer, but he knew she wouldn't accuse him of lying in front of their parents. Still, he would have to explain it to her sometime, and he didn't really know what he would say.

She reached out, resting her hand on his arm, and the look in her eyes said clearly that they would talk about this later.

He gave her the tiniest of nods, hoping his parents would not notice the silent conversation that passed between the two siblings.

"Well, if you're sure it was nothing…" Philip Evans said with one last, long look at his son.

Max nodded and Isabel chewed her lip.

"Alright," their father continued. "Come on, then, Diane, let's let Max get some sleep. Izzy, you coming?"

Isabel slanted a quick look at Max as she rose to her feet and followed her parents from the room. Max watched her go, silent and thoughtful.

Then the door closed behind her, and he was alone in his room with nothing but the shadows and his thoughts for company.

* * *

"So…? Are you going to tell me what's going on or do I have to drag it out of you?"

It had only taken Isabel a matter of minutes to corner him by his locker before first period. With no escape route and no desire to have this conversation at the moment, he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. But he couldn't very well lie to Isabel about it, she would see right through whatever story he came up with.

He sighed and slammed his locker shut. "It's nothing, Isabel," he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. "Right. Nothing." He made a move to step past her, and she caught his arm. "Max. Come on, talk to me."

"It was… a nightmare," Max said softly, annoyance creeping into his tone. "Just like I told Mom and Dad. Just like I told you last night. I had a bad dream."

"A bad dream?" a voice mocked, and Max turned to see Michael approaching, a smirk on his face.

"Great," the hybrid king muttered. "Just what I needed this morning." But with Isabel still holding onto his arm and Michael standing in front of him, he felt himself slowly give in to the inevitable. "It was about… Nicolas."

Michael's expression instantly hardened, and Isabel gave a sympathetic smile. He could tell from their reactions that they both assumed his nightmare had been about Nicolas' death, and for a moment he was tempted to let them continue thinking that. At least it would spare him this conversation.

But he couldn't. They were in this together, until the end. And they deserved to know the truth.

"He was torturing the three of you," Max said in a low whisper, watching as Michael's eyebrows rose to his hairline and Isabel's mouth opened in mute surprise. "You two and Tess. He was trying to get information from me. About… about the Granolith." He looked down at the backpack he was carrying in his arm. "It was real. I can't explain it, but… that dream was real."

"Maxwell, Nicolas is dead," Michael said flatly, countering Max's claim. "You killed him."

Max swallowed uneasily. "I know," he agreed. "He turned to dust, there is no way he is back now. But that dream…" Another quick look around the hallway to make sure they were not be overheard by any of the wrong people, and then he said, "It was real, Michael. I'm telling you… it was more than just a dream."

"Have you had another other dreams like this?" Isabel asked, chewing her lip worriedly.

"No," Max started to answer, and then stopped with a perplexed frown. Isabel stared at him expectantly, and Michael scratched one eyebrow absently as he waited for an explanation. Max blinked and shook his head. "I… well, not exactly. It's just… I don't know if this is related, really, but…"

"Spit it out, Maxwell, we haven't got all day."

Max grinned faintly at Michael's wry comment. Then he sobered and said, "But something weird did happen. I… I keep having this weird… feeling… when I'm around the Granolith."

"A weird feeling?" Michael repeated disbelievingly. Max watched in irritation as Michael and Isabel exchanged dubious looks, and then Michael continued, "You sure it's not just your imagination?"

"Positive," Max snapped. He looked around the rapidly emptying hallway. They needed to get to class soon, or they would all be counted tardy. And explaining why he was late to class when he had arrived to school nearly fifteen minutes ahead of time was not how he wanted to be spending his morning.

Besides, it was only their third day back after the Christmas break. It was a little bit too early to be getting in trouble.

Isabel seemed to be thinking along the same lines, and she said, "We can talk about this more at lunch."

Max drummed his fingers against the locker. "Fine," he grumbled, before turning and walking away. Michael and Isabel didn't follow him, and he let out a relieved breath at that. He didn't know why he was so frustrated with their lack of understanding, but he really wanted to talk to someone who would listen and accept what he said simply because he had said it.

He wanted to talk to Liz.

But Liz was in class, and she didn't have the same class he did at the moment, so that left him without anyone to confide in until lunch.

He thought back to the two times he had gone to the pod chamber over the break. The first time to help Courtney with her husk, the second time to see if he could recreate that feeling… He remembered the fear, the anger, the loss and grief. Liz had said perhaps it was the Granolith showing him what would have happened, had he not killed Nicolas.

What if this was the same thing? What if these dreams had actually happened… in a different timeline? Without Nicolas around, none of this came to pass… but maybe it did once. Maybe this all happened in an alternate reality, one he had just prevented.

He was musing over the different possibilities so intently that he did not notice the petite blonde standing in front of him until he had nearly walked into her. He stepped back, surprised, and then flushed darkly. "Sorry, Tess," he said, bending quickly to pick up the books she had dropped.

"Well, I was going to ask you if you were okay," Tess commented, "but given how distracted you seem, I am going to take that as an indication that the answer would be no." She accepted the books back from him and added with a smile, "Thank you."

"How was your Christmas?" Max asked, realizing with a start that he hadn't seen her in a few weeks. He had been wrapped up with his own drama around Sydney Davis and the man who had died in the car accident, and then after that all passed, he had been spending so much time with Liz…

He had seen Tess only briefly during the past weeks, and most of the time it was simply to exchange a nod and a polite smile. She was spending all of her time with Kyle and his friends. And though Max would not complain about that, it did make him feel a little bit uneasy.

Was she avoiding them?

"It was okay," Tess answered with a casual shrug. "I made turkey. We invited Amy DeLuca over for dinner." But the sparkling in her blue eyes belied the casual tone, and Max could see that whatever had happened on Christmas, it had made her very happy. As though to confirm his suspicion, she added, "It's nice. I… I like being with the Valentis. It feels like… home now. You know?"

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, and meant it.

She studied his face for a moment. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Um… if you're free at lunch, I'm meeting with Michael and Isabel then. I have something we need to discuss."

She frowned, hesitation showing clearly in her gaze. She was clearly reluctant to agree to this when she had no idea what they were discussing. But she gave in eventually, licking her lips and replying, "Yeah. Sure, no problem. See you then."

The awkward tension lingered in the air as Max turned and hurried towards his class. He looked back once, and saw Tess still staring at him, her expression unreadable.

* * *

The meeting at lunch came and went, offering no answers but perhaps a few suggestions. Michael and Isabel accepted Max's theory that he was dreaming about things that had happened in other timelines. Tess shrugged it all off and said she'd believe them if that what they thought it was.

They didn't reach a conclusion, and Max supposed he should have felt more worried about that. But even though they had no proof that what he was witness was more than just a regular nightmare cooked up by his overburdened brain, he was convinced that his theory was true.

Which meant that, even though he was forced to remember that nightmare and all that Nicolas had done, he could at least console himself with the fact that it hadn't happened. Not this time.

* * *

_The room felt cold._

_It was the first thought that Max registered as he stepped through the doorway. It was not a literal cold, but rather a figurative one, a reminder that he was no longer among friends. He did not know who these people were, exactly, or what they wanted from him, but his instinct was telling him that they were not his allies._

_A shiver ran down his spine._

_A long table stretched out before him, and there were four people seated around the table, staring at him silently. He let his gaze run over all of them, then he paused, doing a double-take._

"_Brody?"_

_The UFO Center owner was indeed sitting there, watching Max. "Actually," he said, "my name is Larek. Are you Zan?"_

"_They tell me that used to be my name," Max replied. He glanced to his left, noting that Tess was standing there, offering silent support. He forced a smile, more for her benefit than for his, and hoped it was reassuring. She looked nervous, but determined._

_Behind Tess was Michael… or was it? It certainly looked like Michael, but different. Different hair, different clothing… different aura. Similar to this strange Michael, there was someone who looked like Isabel, but with cropped, spiky hair and way too much makeup. And there was something off about her too, something that Max didn't like._

_Look back at Brody-Larek, Max added, "But my name is Max. Max Evans."_

_One of the others sitting at the table, a woman, looked at him sharply and said, "If he doesn't even know who he is, how can he sit in conference with us?"_

_Inwardly, Max could not help but agree with that statement. Outwardly, however, he kept his expression neutral as he stared at the woman._

_It was Larek who answered in a firm and uncompromising tone, "He sits with us because the emissary certified him." To Max, he said, "Kathana, Sero, Hanar, and I will represent each of our worlds." And he gestured to each other the others sitting around the table in turn._

_Max nodded._

_Larek looked over at Kathana and said, "And Max will speak for his."_

"_Actually," a new voice announced, "Khivar speaks for his world." Max twisted around, mouth following open in surprise at the sight of Nicolas. He strode into the room calmly, with a smile fixed to his features. "And I speak for Khivar."_

_Next to Max, Tess stiffened every so slightly._

"_Max," Nicolas said, nodding._

_Max nodded in reply. The addition of Nicolas had drastically changed everything, and now he was hesitant to go forward with the Summit. Whatever Nicolas might pretend to be offering, Max knew better than to take him at his word. What had started out as a possible path to peace was now nothing more than a trap._

_His heart started racing, and he had to draw a couple deep breaths to keep calm._

"_Nice to see you," Nicolas continued smoothly, letting his gaze wander to Tess, "and your genocidal girlfriend again." He gave Tess a fleeting, chilling smile. "Killed anyone today?"_

_Tess tilted her chin up and replied, "Day's not over," and Max couldn't help but grin._

_Nicolas seemed entirely unfazed by her response, and remarked sardonically, "What a charmer."_

"_Can we begin?" Larek interjected impatiently, sounding bored by the exchange between the two enemies. He obviously did not care about any of the previous altercations between Max and Nicolas._

_The Isabel lookalike continued to watch Nicolas as she murmured in Max's ear, "You know him?"_

_Max sighed. "Long story," he answered, aware of Tess leaning in to hear the conversation. He lifted his voice just enough for her to hear him too, but saw no reason to announce anything to the rest of the table, particularly given that he still didn't trust any of them. "He was in Roswell."_

_Tess and Max both continued to stare at Nicolas as the skin took a seat at the table._

"_Be careful," the Michael lookalike warned._

_Max offered a tight smile. "That much I know."_

Max opened his eyes blearily and waited until they adjusted to the dim light. He blinked a few times, looked about with an uncomprehending expression. Where was he, and how had he gotten here? More importantly, where had he been only moments before?

And why was Brody being possessed by an alien?

It took only a few moments to realize that he was lying in his bed, twisted and tangled in the sheets. The dream obviously hadn't been terrifying enough to warrant the terrified screaming that had come last time, but it left him with the same sense of unease. Another dream that felt so much like reality…

Was Nicolas somehow responsible for him being at that… whatever it was? A meeting of some kind? If so, was this yet another warning of what could have happened if he had allowed the skin to live? It wasn't as clear of a warning as the previous dream, no one had been hurt in it. But Nicolas had been involved, so the whole meeting was probably some kind of trap.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. It was sweaty and damp and clung to his skin.

He needed a shower.

* * *

Max was only half listening to Isabel. She was rambling to Liz about something, and he was alternating between staring at Liz with his usual lovesick gaze and watching Maria send furious glares at Michael. They were all sitting around a table at the Crashdown. Alex was not present, and neither were Tess or Kyle. Which was probably for the best, because things were complicated enough as it was.

He tapped his fingers idly on the table and caught the sound of Isabel saying, "…not really, but Grant got me them once." He jerked his head up and looked at her. He hadn't thought about Grant Sorenson in several weeks, but now it occurred to him that he usually saw the archeologist around a bit more frequently.

What had happened with that relationship?

"How did he find them?" Liz asked in a hushed tone. "I thought purple roses were really rare."

"They are," Isabel confirmed. "He got them for my birthday. You know, around the same time you guys came up with the idea for the surprise birthday party and Alex did a… uh… strip tease." She was grinning as she said the words, her entire face flushed a light pink.

Maria paused her glaring long enough to jump into the conversation with a laugh, "I'd forgotten about that!" Shaking her head, she added, "It was hardly a strip tease. He didn't _show_ anything."

"Did that disappoint you?" Isabel teased.

"Of course," Maria answered instantly, lips quirked into a mischievous grin.

Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw Michael stiffen at the comment. Apparently the taciturn hybrid was not quite as adept at ignoring Maria as he wanted everyone to believe.

"Whatever happened to Grant?" Max asked, frowning at his sister.

Isabel's eyes narrowed and she looked away, a trace of guilt showing on her features. "I… I wanted to break up with Grant, to be with Alex instead. He… he didn't really take it too well."

Michael gave up all pretense of ignoring the conversation and said sharply, "What do you mean? What did he do?" His expression was thunderous, as though he was planning on tracking down the archeologist right then and there.

"We just argued," Isabel retorted, giving Michael a disbelieving look. "Why do you always jump to the conclusion that we're under attack?" Maria and Liz were now hanging on her every word, and Isabel continued, "Alex and I ran into Grant the morning after the night that I'd broken up with him. I think he was angry, he said some stuff about how quickly I had moved on and everything."

"It was pretty nasty," a new voice added, and Max turned to see Kyle and Tess standing behind the group.

Isabel looked uncomfortable. "It wasn't that bad."

"Yeah, it was," Kyle countered. "Of course, breaking up with someone by voicemail is a little… cold, so I can see why he would be upset." He hesitated, then said, "Of course, he still took it a bit too far." Turning to Max, he explained, "My Dad was around at the time of that… _disagreement_. Let's just say, he had… _words_… with Mr. Sorenson."

"And the handsome, if overbearing, archeologist skipped town shortly after," Tess finished. Kyle shot her an incredulous look, and she said, "Relax, I'm not using any crazy alien powers on you. But you've got really thin walls in that house, I could hear your Dad telling you what had happened."

"And you never told anyone?" Michael demanded.

Tess gave him a bewildered look. "I didn't realize Isabel's romantic life was that important to you," she countered, a faint drawl to her tone. "Does it really matter if she opted for the computer geek instead?" She was smiling as she said it, the expression on her face turning the words _computer geek_ into more of a term of endearment than an insult.

Liz blinked and looked at Isabel, "You broke up with him by _voicemail_?"  
"I know," Isabel said wearily, "not my best moment. I just really wanted to get it over with, and he didn't answer the phone, so…"

"You know, I like your father more and more every day," Max commented to Kyle.

"Uh… thanks?" Kyle replied, sounding a little unsure as to how exactly he was supposed to respond.

"I still think we should hunt down this Sorenson," Michael grumbled.

"Take a deep breath and try to relax, Michael," Isabel answered with a roll of her eyes. "I know you have a hard time thinking logically or rationally about things, but…"

"Oh, shut up," Michael snapped.

Max smiled and shook his head, but as soon as Michael looked in his direction he quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression. The hybrid General did not appear particularly appeased by that, but Max didn't really care.

"Are you going to sit down?" Liz asked, looking at Tess and gesturing to the empty seat across from her. Tess hesitated, then nodded slowly and slid into the offered chair. After a moment, Kyle pulled up a chair and joined her.

The silence that followed was remarkably uncomfortable.

It was broken by the appearance of one of the waitresses, who deposited a cup of coffee in front of Kyle and waffles with whip cream and strawberries in front of Tess.

"There you go. Would you like anything else?"

"Um… can you bring another bottle of Tabasco sauce?" Tess requested. "It looks like the one on the table is pretty close to empty."

If the waitress thought it at all odd that Tess was asking for Tabasco sauce when she was eating waffles, the girl had enough common sense not to comment on it. She just gave a detached smile and a nod and hurried away to find the requested condiment.

"That's a very alien thing, isn't it?" Kyle asked, keeping his voice low. "The very sweet, very spicy?"

"Yeah," Tess answered.

At the same time, Isabel asked in mild distress, "That's what you're eating, Tess? It's the middle of the afternoon. Shouldn't you be having… you know, afternoon-food?"

Tess rolled her eyes, but before she could answer, the waitress reappeared and handed her the bottle of Tabasco sauce, which she accepted with a grin and proceeded to upend onto her waffles.

"Can I try a bite?" Kyle asked curiously, staring at the concoction.

Max gave the football jock a quick look and said, "You're not going to like it."

But Tess pushed the plate towards Kyle, and he stuck a form into the nearest bit of waffle. Max watched curiously as Kyle chewed, his expression starting out as disgust and turning into something closer to interest. The interest was soon replaced with horror, however, and Kyle rapidly pushed the plate away.

"Oh my God," he hissed, "it's not completely horrible. It's almost tasty. This is so wrong. I'm not ready for this."

"Not ready for what?" Liz asked, exchanging a puzzled look with Max.

"For the change. Not ready to be a… a half-human, half-alien freakazoid," Kyle sputtered.

"Keep your voice down," Michael growled, looking around in an effort to make sure they would not be overheard by any of the other patrons.

At the same time, Isabel protested, "Hey! We're not freaks."

Tess looked up from her waffles and said dryly, "We prefer the term 'hybrids.'"

Kyle turned to glare at Max. "I never bargained for this. One minute I'm a normal guy with my whole life ahead of me, and the next think I know, you've gone and transmogrified me into not-of-this-Earth."

"Trans-what?" Michael asked.

Max stared incredulously at Kyle. The entire thing was ridiculous. He had _saved_ Kyle's life, and here the human was actually complaining about it? It wasn't as though Max had gone out of his way to use his powers on any of them, wasn't as though he had wanted to do it. He hadn't _wanted_ Kyle to get hurt in the first place.

"Well, I suppose I could have let you die," Max said sarcastically.

"If I had died," Kyle hissed under his breath, "I would have transcended the mortal plane and been reincarnated into the next stage of life."

Max blinked. "Huh?" Kyle had been spouting all of this psychobabble on and off for a couple months now, and Max had no idea why. Since did he believe in reincarnation?

"Reincarnated as what, exactly?" Liz asked, leaning forward and gazing at Kyle.

"Another person or animal, I guess," Kyle said with a shrug.

"An animal? You could end up as… as a gopher or something," Tess protested, half-laughing. She dropped her fork back onto the table as she grinned at Kyle, and Max thought idly to himself that it was the first time he had seen Tess look so happy since before the incident with Whitaker.

Since before Future Max had come back in time.

"I need help," Kyle groaned, and dropped his head onto the table.

"What do you want from me?" Tess demanded, still chuckling slightly. Her tone grew more serious as she continued, "I don't know what's going to happen to you. You know, maybe nothing will happen. Or maybe you could develop superpowers and start flying all over Roswell in a big cape. I don't know!"

Max looked down at his hand, idly drumming his fingers on the table. Unbidden, thoughts of Nicolas came to mind. Was Nicolas' death the reason he was able to sit here and laugh with his friends, to feel so relaxed? Was Nicolas' death the reason that he didn't feel as though he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop? Was Nicolas' death the reason everyone felt safe?

Was it all worth it, worth turning him into a killer?

Maria abruptly pushed her chair back and stood up, glaring at Tess and drawing Max out of his reverie. "Excuse me," she said, "but I'm going to go see if they need any help in the kitchen." And she turned and stalked away from the table.

Tess frowned as she watched Maria go, but said nothing. Max wished, not for the first time, that he could read her mind. Maria's exit was hardly subtle, and Tess was bound to know that the blonde human was avoiding her. But this didn't really appear to bother Tess, who turned her attention back to her waffles moments later.

"I guess I'm not her favorite person at the moment," she quipped after a pause.

"Well, neither is Michael," Liz offered, jerking her head towards the hybrid in question. "So you two have something in common."

"Yeah, but if Michael just had enough common sense…" Isabel started, but Michael twisted to face her with an angry look, and she trailed off.

"It's over," Michael snapped. "There is not now and never will be anything between Maria and I. Deal with it."

Max watched as Isabel chewed her lip, obviously debating whether or not to speak her mind. It was clear to Max, and he had to assume it was clear to everyone else at the table, that Michael was desperately missing Maria. His furious comment was probably more to convince himself that it was over between him and Maria than to convince anyone else.

Ever since the return from Copper Summit, Michael had been subdued and moody. Max knew he had certainly been acting gloomy as well, although for an entirely different reason. But while his own concerns about Nicolas' death could not be easily undone, Michael at least had a viable solution to his problems.

But, of course, the taciturn hybrid was too stubborn to take it.

Surprisingly, it was Tess who spoke up, admonishing Michael with a careless, "You do realize your whole plan makes no sense, don't you?"

"What?" Michael snapped.

"Well, Maria dies trying to protect Liz, right? So… you don't really have anything to do with that. Staying away from her won't keep her safe, unless you can convince her to stay away from Liz as well." Tess tilted her head to the side, gazing at Michael contemplatively, and then said, "Maybe that is your answer. Forbid Maria from ever hanging out with Liz, and you'll be fine."

This time Max didn't even bother to hide his laughter. The idea of Michael forbidding Maria to do anything, much less spend time with her best friend, was _quite_ amusing.

Michael continued to glower at Tess as he rose to his feet and stormed out of the Crashdown.

"Oh, well done," Isabel hissed, looking angry, it was then that Max noticed Liz's crestfallen expression. Michael was apparently not the only one upset by Tess' blunt statement, and Liz looked close to tears. The fact that she was responsible for Maria's death was obviously something Liz had been trying to deal with since the revelation nearly two months ago, and Tess' comment had only made it worse.

Isabel continued to glare at Tess, Max tried to wrap his arm reassuringly around Liz's shoulders. Kyle was glancing between them all, looking unsure.

Tess raised one eyebrow, meeting Max's gaze unflinchingly, and said, "Was I wrong?"

And that was the problem. She _wasn't_ wrong, and whether she said it aloud or not, it would not change the fact that it was true. Liz was the reason Maria had always died, and Michael could not protect his on-again, off-again girlfriend from that. It would not make it easier for Liz to bear, would not make it easier for Michael to accept, if they all just pretended that it wasn't true.

Max closed his eyes for a moment and tried to hold onto the memory of feeling safe and relaxed just moments before. But it was fleeting, and the weight of everything was soon settling over his shoulders once more.

* * *

Author's note: Okay, so here's the deal. Because Nicolas is dead, there was no _Wipe Out_. There was no Max going to New York (as Nicolas was behind getting Rath and Lonnie to contact the Roswell Royal Four). So that's all good, and definite progress for this timeline.

On the other hand, because Isabel broke things off so abruptly with Grant Sorenson, he left town. So there was no parasite Queen lodging itself in his body and turning him into a psychotic madman… and no Michael meeting Laurie. Sorry guys, but not all change is good.


	20. The Sixth Dimension II: Relativity

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: The first half of this chapter takes place some time in February, between two and three months after the Harvest and Nicolas' death. The second half of the chapter skips ahead to April, where we hit the next big disaster for the group.

* * *

The Sixth Dimension II: Relativity

_Relativity applies to physics, not ethics._

-Albert Einstein

At first, Maria tried ignoring him. It didn't work, obviously, because she'd never been very good at ignoring Michael, but it was amusing nonetheless, and Max felt a bit of pity for the blonde human.

When that didn't work, she moved on to flirting with every boy she saw, going as far to kiss Kyle on the cheek. That was interesting for two reasons; Michael's eyes became so dark Max was somewhat afraid he would actually try to kill Kyle, and Tess' expression turned into one of jealousy.

But Michael didn't respond to the flirting, either. He clenched his hands into fists and stared determinedly in the other direction and Maria was often left gazing at him with a mixture of frustration and longing on her features.

Then she moved on to forcing conversation. That went nowhere, because Michael would either get up and leave, or simply answer all her question in one-word, monotone replies. And then Maria would rant and glower and hiss and Michael would just give her a blank look as though he couldn't figure out why she was so upset.

It annoyed Isabel. She never did know when to stop interfering, and she was treating the fact that she hadn't somehow managed to shove the two together by now as thought it was a significant failing on her part.

She'd talk to Michael about it. Max was never privy to those conversations as Isabel told him in no uncertain terms that his presence would only complicate things. She also implied that he didn't understand relationships at all, and he had to bite back the urge to point out that he was actually in a committed relationship with the person he loved.

Max didn't talk to Michael. And Isabel didn't talk to Maria. But Max occasionally tried talking to Maria, offering advice or comfort. She tended to rebuff him, to push him aside. She would tell him, over and over, that she could do this on her own, that she didn't need anyone's assistance.

And then she'd go running to Liz, asking for help.

Maybe Isabel was right, and Max really didn't understand relationships. Or maybe it was just that he didn't understand girls.

* * *

But time passed, first one week, and then another. Soon it was over two months since the appearance of Future Max, and for Michael and Maria, nothing had changed.

And hanging over all of that were Tess' words, the casual, pointed comment that had driven Liz to tears and caused Michael to storm from the Crashdown. Maria's death, so inexplicably inevitable, it seemed, would happen with or without Michael. Because in the end, it was all still Liz's fault.

For Max, however, there were also other concerns. By the time three months had passed, the thought of Nicolas was _still_ weighing heavily on his mind. He couldn't shake it, no matter how much he wanted to. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes at night, he'd see images of Nicoals' face, pale and twisted with pain, just moments before he dissolved into dust. Other times, his thoughts would wander down a different path, and he'd remember those dreams, and what had happened in them, what they meant.

And then there were the moments when he found himself thinking things that weren't true…

"Maxwell? You still with us?"

Max blinked and looked over at Michael, who was sitting on the edge of the sofa, frowning. Max nodded and gave a weary sigh, running a hand through his hair. He had come over to Michael's apartment in the hopes that being away from home would somehow give him temporary relief from these thoughts.

It didn't.

"Yeah," Max muttered, "sorry, man. Just… thinking."

Michael snorted. "Aren't you always?" he retorted with a shake of his head.

Max grinned. Only Michael could make _thinking_ sound like an insult.

"About what?" Michael asked after a pause, giving Max an expectant look.

Max didn't answer right away. He couldn't put into words what had been happening lately, and he wasn't sure Michael would believe him anyway. But at least Michael would be honest in his response, instead of simply agreeing because it seemed like what Max needed.

He rubbed the back of his head absently and stared at the wall opposite him. "I keep thinking things that I _know_ aren't true."

"Like you've gone loony?" Michael asked.

Max rolled his eyes. "No," he snapped. Michael seemed a bit taken aback by Max's sudden flaring temper, but the hybrid King did not care. He stared moodily at his hands and muttered, "I just… I guess it is kind of like flashes. But without the flash."

"You're going to have to explain a bit more," Michael drawled.

Max let out a slow breath. "The other day, I saw Sheriff Valenti at the grocery store. And I… I also offered him my apologies for getting him fired." He waited just long enough to see the bewilderment in Michael's gaze, and then he said rhetorically, "But Valenti didn't get fired, did he?"

He knew that Valenti had recently been investigated in connection to the Hubble shooting. The investigation had ended shortly after it began, and as far as Max knew, Valenti had been entirely cleared of any accusation of wrongdoing. So why was he so convinced that Valenti had been fired? Why did he have this bitter taste in his mouth?

"He was fired at one point," Michael said after a moment. "In another timeline. I… you… told us that. It caused a rift between Kyle and the rest of the group."

"Okay, but how am I remembering this when it hasn't happened?" Max protested. He knew that Future Max had remembered bits and pieces of other timelines, incidents and emotions that hadn't really belonged to him. But hadn't that been a side-effect of the time travel?

"Dunno," Michael shrugged.

The answer was hardly helpful, but at least it was honest.

Knowing he wasn't going to find much more here, Max left a few minutes later. He didn't want to go home quite yet, and he knew Liz was working, which left him with little else to occupy his time. He paid no attention to where his feet were taking him, and instead let the warmth of the sun slip into his skin as he wandered aimlessly.

Valenti had lost his job. Michael, Isabel, and Tess had been tortured. Nicolas had lured Max and Tess to a trap in New York.

Except that none of this had happened.

And Nicolas was dead.

What else had changed because of Nicolas' death? Who else had found their lives sent in an entirely different direction? Max knew all the good, but what about the bad? Did people suffer because of what he had done? Did killing Nicolas end up hurting others as well?

Courtney had told him to kill Nicolas. Courtney had said it was necessary. And from everything Max had seen, both in his dreams and in the unfamiliar images and beliefs that came to him when he least expected it, he had to believe that this was true.

It had been three months. They were all still alive, the skins had not attacked again…

So why did it still feel like he had done something wrong?

* * *

When the argument finally came, Max had long been waiting for it. He and Liz were sitting together at a table at the Crashdown, exchanging stories from their school day. It was near closing, and Maria and Courtney were both working, clearing plates and wiping down tables. Michael was in the kitchen, working at the grill, and sitting on the opposite side of the diner was Tess, talking to Kyle and one of Kyle's football jock friends.

Max felt his gaze drawn to Tess several times. She was pretty much avoiding them all now, having turned down a few offers to hang out from Liz and Alex. Of course, given that Maria's opinion of her hadn't seemed to have changed any over the past several weeks, and Isabel and Michael had only become marginally less suspicious, he couldn't really blame her for not wanting to hang out with the group.

Still, it made him uneasy. It wasn't that he thought she would betray them – although he'd be lying if he said that worry never crossed his mind – but rather he was afraid that she might just leave. She didn't really seem to care about any of them anymore.

Except Kyle.

"…just really want to help, you know?" Liz said, and Max snapped his attention back to the conversation. Liz was staring at Maria, and that was enough for him to infer exactly what he had missed. Once again, Liz was wishing she could somehow push Michael and Maria back together.

"I know," Max agreed, "but Michael's being so stubborn about it. Even Isabel can't seem to talk any sense into him."

Liz leaned forward, propping her elbows up on the table between them. "It's getting ridiculous."

Max didn't answer for a moment. He doubted this is what his future self had wanted when he came back to deliver his warning. He had successfully stopped Liz from her continual avoidance of their relationship, and had brought Isabel and Alex together. But Michael and Maria? Every day sent them drifting further apart.

Alex and Isabel, though… that was a relationship that Max had a few qualms about. He was glad Isabel was no longer with Grant, having never really liked the older man. And Alex at least was trustworthy and had proven, time and again, that he was loyal. But it had still seemed to come out of nowhere. Only a week before Future Max's appearance, Isabel had barely acknowledged Alex's crush on her, too busy pursuing the more physically attractive Grant.

Then she discovered Alex could die and suddenly decides she liked him again? No hesitations, no wondering if this is the right move, no insecurities? Even his relationship with Liz, as picture perfect as it might seem from the inside, did not simply appear overnight. They had to work at it before, and they'd probably have to work at it again.

What would happen, then, when the honeymoon phase was over and Isabel found herself, once again, casting her eyes towards older, more attractive men?

"You're not listening to a single word I say, are you?"

Max sent a guilty and apologetic look towards Liz. "I'm sorry, I was thinking about other things."

She studied him for a moment, then asked quietly, "Nicolas?"

He blinked, surprised. "No, actually," he answered. For once, Nicolas' death did not weigh on him, eating away at his sanity. "I was thinking about Isabel and Alex."

Liz pursed her lips and nodded. "What about them?"

The rest of the Crashdown was empty, all of the other patrons having left. In fact, it looked as though the place had actually closed while Max wasn't paying attention, and Michael was slowly emerging from the kitchen, tossing his apron onto the counter.

But even so, he twisted and looked around, making sure his sister and her boyfriend were nowhere near. Once he had ascertained that he would not be overheard, he said, "How quickly they got together. I know my sister. And don't get me wrong, I love her, but she…"

"Doesn't have the best track record with relationships?" Liz finished.

"Whatever, it has to be better than Michael's track record," Maria snapped, joining the conversation. To Liz, she added, "Your Dad went to bed and gave me the keys to give to you. He wants you to lock up." And she tossed the keys onto the table.

Max watched as Liz nodded, then looked over at the table on the opposite side of the room. Kyle's friend had left, leaving just Kyle and Tess standing there, gathering their belongings.

Liz's expression took on a distant, bitter look, and Max knew exactly what thoughts had crossed through her mind. She was staring at Maria, but not really seeing her, thinking instead about what Tess had said…

And Maria seemed to sense the exact same thing, because she whirled around and glowered at Tess. "What is your problem?"

Tess seemed rather taken aback, and just stared at Maria. "Uh… what?"

Kyle moved a step closer to Tess' side, eyes narrowing.

"You just couldn't leave it alone," Maria spat. "You had to tell Liz that my death was all her fault. Are you still jealous of her? Trying to drive her away from everyone so that you can have Max all to yourself? Can't you get it through your thick skull that he's never going to love you?"

Tess' eyes narrowed into thin slits of ice as she replied fiercely, "Oh, I figured that one out, Maria. Around the time I saw the flash of him kissing Liz in front of our son."

Max flushed a dark red. He hadn't liked all of the things Liz had told him, been completely appalled by several of the timelines. He lowered his gaze and made a silent promise to himself that nothing like that would happen this time.

As he stared at the table, he heard Tess continue, "Anyway, it was Future Max who told us that your death was always caused by you trying to protect Liz. I just repeated that fact. And here's the thing, Maria, you can pretend all you want, but it doesn't make it any less true. That's what happened. In all the timelines."

While Tess' words were entirely true, Max mused, she apparently had no idea how to be tactful. Liz's eyes were filling with tears, though she was determinedly keeping them from falling, and Max felt his anger start to bubble.

"You didn't have to rub it in her face like that," Maria retorted fiercely.

"I didn't _mean_ to," Tess answered defensively. Max looked up and saw Tess eyes flick quickly to Liz. "I didn't think, okay? I wasn't trying to make the point to her, I was trying to make it to Michael. I didn't really think about how she would take it."

It wasn't an apology, but it was still enough of an admission to stop Maria in her tracks. And if Tess had any sense of self-preservation, she would have beckoned to Kyle and made a hasty retreat, leaving Max, Maria, Liz, and Michael to hash the issue.

Unfortunately, she either didn't realize that escape path was there, or she didn't care.

"And if she's got a problem with it, she can tell me herself instead of sending you to do it for her," Tess announced, still looking at Liz. Liz stiffened and Maria looked furious, but Tess ignored that. To Maria, she added, "And you're blowing this all out of proportion. It was a bad choice of words, obviously, but since what you're really mad about is that Michael is a complete idiot, stop taking your anger out on me. _That_ is not my fault."

"This isn't about Michael," Maria replied furiously.

At the same time, Liz chimed in, "I didn't send Maria to talk to you, Tess."

"Whatever," Tess said, dismissing both their comments with a wave of her hand, "deal with it on your own time, and stop wasting mine."

"Too busy to hang out with us?" Max asked with a roll of his eyes. Once again, it seemed as though Tess could not be bothered to stay around and talk to them. Why? What was she too busy doing? Plotting with Khivar? Mind-warping Alex? Making plans for their demise.

He didn't say it aloud, but his suspicions must have shown in his eyes because Tess gave him a frosty look. "I don't really see a reason to stick around," she said coolly.

"We're supposedly family," Michael answered, speaking up for the first time since the argument had begun.

Tess gave him a disparaging look. "Are we now?" she drawled. "Because we don't have a destiny, do we? I'm not Max's wife, so that rules out that link. I didn't grow up with any of you, so we don't have a common background. As far as I can tell, we don't even _like_ the same things. So where's the family bit?"

"We need to stick together," Liz chimed in warily. "Courtney said that…"

"Oh, who cares what Courtney said," Maria interrupted. The blonde skin had apparently left the diner shortly after they had closed, and was no longer around to hear the argument. This seemed to be a relief for Maria, who could not possibly have enjoyed working with the girl she still viewed as her nemesis.

"Well… she might have had a point," Michael offered.

Maria whirled around to face him, eyes blazing. "And you're doing such a good job of following it, aren't you? Sticking together and all that. Seems to me you just want to avoid everyone."

"Not everyone," Michael replied. "Just you."

Maria stepped back, eyes widening. Liz rose to her feet, moving automatically to Maria's side to offer her support, and Max cast a worried look at Michael. At of the corner of his eye, he saw Kyle reached our and grab Tess' arm, slowly dragging her away from the others.

At least Kyle had enough common sense to get himself and Tess out of the argument while they still had that chance.

Maria paid no attention to Tess and Kyle leaving. Glaring heatedly at Michael, she said, "Fine. Go screw Courtney if that's what you want…"

"It isn't what I want," Michael exploded, slamming his fists down against a nearby table. Liz jumped, but Max, used to Michael's outbursts, was unsurprised. He climbed out of his seat and placed himself in between Michael and Maria, but slightly off to the side.

He wasn't going to intervene unless he absolutely had to.

He wished for a fleeting moment that Isabel was here. She was so much better at handling Michael's moods.

"Really?" Maria said disbelievingly.

"Would you stop acting like you're some poor, unsuspecting victim and I am the big bad villain?" Michael growled. "I'm not doing this to hurt you, and I'm not doing it to spite you. I am trying to keep you safe, and you're acting like a petty child throwing a temper tantrum because you didn't get the toy you wanted!"

"Look, Michael I think…" Liz started in a tone of would-be calm.

"Stay out of this, Parker!" Michael ordered.

"Don't talk to her like that," Maria seethed, instantly coming to her best friend's defense.

"This isn't any of her business," Michael answered coldly. "I don't need her permission – or yours – to date and not date people. So just stay out of this. Tess was right about one thing, you do interfere too much."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Maria questioned angrily, her voice growing louder and louder with every word.

"You're the one who kept pushing Maxwell towards Liz and yelling at him when he spent time with Tess," Michael said pointedly. "Never mind that Parker was the one who walked away from Max and apparently didn't want to be part of that relationship anymore, didn't want to fight for it. And now you step in again and yell at Tess because she went and hurt Liz's feelings, and Liz apparently can't stand up for herself. Did it ever occur to you that no one _wants_ your help?"

Max knew Michael well enough to know that, even if Michael at least partially believed what he was saying, he was only saying it now because he was trying to push Maria way. And for a moment, it looked like it would work, but then Maria shook her head and refused to back down.

"I'm not going to let you keep walking away from me," she said firmly. "This is my life, too, and you don't get to make all the decisions."

"Do you want to _die_?" Michael retorted.

Maria flinched, but said, "No. But that's seems irrelevant at the moment. Are you really to thick to see that I want to be with you?"

"Are you really too self-centered to see that I just want you to be safe?"

"I don't care!" Maria answered. "I _don't_. How can you think that you get to decide everything? That you are the one who has to keep me safe, you chauvinistic pig! I'm _not_ some damsel in distress who needs saving. So stop acting like you're an all powerful…"

"I won't be the reason you die! I don't' care if that makes you angry, and refuse to…"

"You _aren't_ the reasons she dies," Liz interjected, her voice loud and high-pitched, tears finally slipping past her self-control and streaming down her cheeks. "I am. _Me_, Michael, not anyone else! So stop _acting_ like you're doing _anything_ besides making her _miserable_. God, can't you see that this is pointless…?"

She stopped them, words choking in her throat. Max was at her side in a heartbeat, wrapping his arms around her tightly, and she clung to him as though the full weight of what she had said was finally settling over her. And perhaps it was.

Perhaps, for the first time, she was truly realizing that she was going to get her best friend killed.

She shook in his arms, body trembling, and he held her tighter, sparing a brief glare for the two bickering ex-significant others. It wasn't really their fault, of course, but they weren't exactly making the situation any easier for anyone to bear.

There was a tense silence, then Maria looked at Michael and said in a soft but entirely unyielding voice, "I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving this group, and I am not leaving Liz. You want to know why I die, Michael? It's because I'm protecting Liz, I'm saving her life. And she's my best friend. I am not going to walk away from that, I am not _ever_ going to let anything happen to her. So you can do whatever the hell you want, it doesn't matter. I know the risks, and this is one I am willing to take."

"You shouldn't," Liz said, but Maria shook her head.

"Yeah, I should," the blonde waitress replied. "And I am going to. This is _my_ decision, and I've made it."

Without waiting for anyone else to say anything, Maria walked past them all into the backroom, carrying the last of the abandoned dishes and menus.

Max watched her go, for the first time truly appreciative of her strength. He wondered what it was like to be so absolutely positive that he would die, and so incredibly sure that it was worth it. Looking down at Liz, he knew he would sacrifice his life for her without hesitation. But it was still a theoretical bit of knowledge, not something that he had to live with every day.

Maria had her faults, of course. Max sighed as he stared after her retreating form and wondered if she had ever stop to consider just how hard this was for Michael, too. He doubted it, Maria often couldn't see past her own fury at Michael, and this was just one more example of Michael trying to show his feelings and going about it in all the wrong ways.

Leading Liz back to the table, he practically forced her to sit down. She was still crying, though less noisily, and she stared at him with fear and hurt in her eyes. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it felt like for her… How would he have reacted had he been informed that he was always responsible for Michael or Isabel's deaths?

"I'll be right back," he said, watching as Michael grabbed his discarded apron and headed towards the backroom as well.

Liz nodded mutely.

Max followed Michael quickly and quietly, intent on catching the hybrid General. But Michael had already made it into the kitchen by the time Max stepped through the door, and the hybrid King moved into the shadows, not wanting to be seen.

He knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping on Michael and Maria's conversation, but he just couldn't help it. He wanted to know what would happen now that Maria had so uncompromisingly placed her cards on the table.

"…get that you're only trying to protect me. But you can't, okay. I made my choice. I chose Liz."

"Fine."

"Oh… don't be like this, Michael." Maria's tone was a mixture of disappointment and exasperation.

Michael responded in kind with an annoyed, "Like what? Upset that someone I love is going to get herself killed? What do you want, from me? A congratulations on your apparent death wish?"

A pause, then Maria said slowly, "You love me?"

For a moment, Michael didn't answer. Max was about to leave, about to head back to Liz, when Michael said, "Okay, fine. You're going to do whatever you want, I get that. Just… just tell me before you go rushing off to save Liz, alright?"

"Why?" Maria questioned, her tone sharp and hard. "So you can talk me out of it?"

"No. So I can go with you to protect you from whatever danger is there."

* * *

The next two months weren't perfect, but things slowly began to even out for the group. Michael and Maria were more or less together, their relationship punctured by its usual bickering and fights. Alex and Isabel were getting steadily closer, and Max was slightly concerned about just how serious that relationship was becoming. He loved his sister, and he was glad she was happy, but… he was still worried.

Liz was often quiet and disheartened. She didn't avoid Maria, but there was a definite strain there, a tension that neither girl was quite able to address. They didn't talk about it, but it lingered in the air between them, a constant reminder of what could happen in the future.

Tess continued to avoid or rebuff their offers to spend time together, and they stopped asking. It was really necessary to spend time with her at the moment, given that they had no aliens problems to address. The skins had not attacked in nearly five months, and everyone seemed to think that maybe, just maybe, they were safe. At least for now.

And Max… Max didn't really know what was going on with him. Thoughts of Nicolas were never far from his mind, and it took very little to send him down that path. He didn't want to think about it, but it was hard to forget what it was like to kill someone in cold blood and more and more he began to doubt his ability to fight this war.

How could he be a leader if it hurt him this much to do what was necessary? He was not foolish enough to think that this would be the last person he would kill. If he fell apart for _months_ every time he was forced to take a life… Maybe he just wasn't cut out for this.

And his depression was obvious enough to the others, which was probably what lead Isabel to knock on the door to his room and let herself in with the simple question of, "Do you want to talk?"

"Not really," Max replied truthfully.

She shrugged, but didn't leave. She didn't come much further into the room, either, though she did make sure to shut the door behind her. "We just… we're worried, Max. We want to help."

He gave her a look, then leaned back against the headboard of his bed. "We?" he asked, looking determinedly at the ceiling.

"Michael and I," Isabel answered, "and Liz, too," and Max decided to himself that he should probably give her some credit because at least she was being honest. At least she wasn't pretending that they _weren't_ talking about him behind his back.

"How are you going to help?" he asked, a bitter harsher than he had intended. "Can you change the fact that I killed someone?"

"I did, too," Isabel murmured, lips pressed into a thin line. "And so did Michael."

"It's not the same," Max said, his eyes never wavering from the ceiling though he knew his tone was angry and loud. "Michael didn't have a choice, Pierce was going to kill us. And you and Whitaker… If you hadn't done what you did, you and Tess might both be dead."

"Nicolas was going to kill us too…"

"But not right then," Max hissed, rolling to his side and sitting up, glaring at Isabel. "Right then, he was entirely _helpless_. Right then… he _wasn't_ a threat to any of us at that moment I just…" He stopped, barely able to formulate coherent thoughts. "It's _not_ the same, Isabel."

"Maybe not," Isabel conceded quickly, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender, "but… look, it wasn't easy for Michael and I to deal with it, and maybe it is different, but it isn't _entirely_ different. We all still killed. We know… we understand what you're going through and…"

"No," Max said flatly, "you don't."

Isabel's eyes flashed. "Don't treat what I did like it's no big deal, Max," she argued.

"Don't treat what I did like it is something I can just get over," Max countered furiously.

"I'm trying to help," Isabel protested. "Max, it's _April_. We haven't been attacked, haven't even been in danger since November… Don't you see? What you did… yeah, it was hard. Painful. But… you _had_ to do it, and it _worked_. We've been safe."

"It's still murder, Isabel," he grounded out through clenched teeth. He ran a hand through his hair and looked away from her. "Just because it has been five months doesn't mean… doesn't mean it stops hurting. Doesn't mean I stop feeling… guilty."

"Then talk to us," Isabel begged. "Obviously dealing with this on your own hasn't helped, so talk to us. Let us help you."

"What do you want me to say?" Max questioned skeptically. His words were practically dripping with sarcasm as he continued, "That I don't know if I can do this? If I can lead? That Nicolas' death won't ever leave me alone, and I don't think I can protect us? Is that what you want to hear? Does that make you feel better? Does it make you think you can _fix_ this? Because I gotta say… I don't have a clue how this can be fixed, and I'm pretty damn sure you don't either."

"Max…"

"Leave me alone, Isabel," he said.

"But…"

"I said, leave me alone," Max snapped. "Does it seem like you're helping? Does it seem like this is fixing the problem?" He dropped his hands into his lap for a moment, then changed positions and folded his arms over his chest. "Because, from my point of view, you're really just making it worse."

"If you would just listen to me…"

"Why would I listen to you when you won't listen to me?" Max countered, almost shouting at her. "Have you heard a single thing I've said? I want you to _get out_!"

"What is wrong with you?" Isabel demanded. "Why are you acting like this?"

Seething, he snarled, "I don't know, why don't you go talk to Michael and Liz about it? Maybe you can come up with an answer and then come back and tell me why I feel the way I do."

She appeared about to say something, and she froze, eyes going wide as she stared at him. She wasn't looking at his face, but rather down at his chest, and something had obviously scared her. She stepped back and away from him, then turned and pulled open the door.

"Izzy?" he questioned, his anger fading.

She glanced over his shoulder. "I… I have to go," she said. "I'll see you later."

* * *

And she hurried out of the room, leaving a very bewildered Max to stare after her in silence.

Later that evening, Max found himself sitting in his room, dismally thinking that perhaps he should track down Isabel and apologize to her. He hadn't seen her since the argument in the morning, and he had a feeling she was probably avoiding him. He honestly hadn't meant to get so upset, and he didn't know why he did. The anger seemed to come and go as though it was outside of his control.

Rubbing his eyes, he came to the silent conclusion that he really wasn't fit to lead. How could he be responsible for fighting a war, for keeping his family safe, when he could barely think straight?

He reached automatically for his phone and flipped it open, calling Isabel. But her cell phone was evidently not on as it went straight to voice mail. He groaned and tossed the phone onto the bed.

Leaving his room, he wandered through the house until he located his mother in the kitchen. She looked up and smiled at him, and he said, "Mom, have you seen Isabel?"

"She went over to Sheriff Valenti's house to see Tess, I think," his mother replied.

That confused Max. As far as he knew, Tess and Isabel hadn't bothered to speak to each other much for the past few months. And they seemed perfectly content to drift apart, though it bothered Max sometimes to think about how distant Tess was being. So, given that, why would Isabel go see the other hybrid now?

There was really only one way to find out the answer to that question, and Max grabbed his car keys, called out to quickly tell his mother he was leaving, and headed outside.

By the time he reached the Valentis' house, he was no closer to coming up with an explanation for this impromptu meeting between Tess and Isabel. He simply could not believe that they had suddenly decided to be friends, which then led him to the conclusion that this was alien-related.

But why would it involve only the two of them?

Jim Valenti let him into the hosue and gestured vaguely towards Kyle's old room when he asked about Isabel. He didn't see Kyle anywhere around, and the Sheriff went back to the kitchen almost as soon as letting Max into the house.

Max started down the hallway. The door to the bedroom was partially open, and Max could hear the sounds of an argument, though he could not catch the words. He walked quietly closer, unintentionally slowly down to listen.

"Tess, no one is accusing you of anything," he heard Isabel snap. He paused in the hallway, his hand resting on the wall near the door. Part of him was tempted to enter the room now and stop the escalating argument, but another part of him wanted to wait, wanted to figure out exactly why his sister and Tess were arguing.

"Really? Because I gotta say, when you come storming in here and demand to know what I've done, that sounds a whole lot like an accusation," came Tess' bitter, acidic response.

"That was…unfortunately phrased." That was Liz's voice, and Max's eyebrows came together in concern. What was Liz doing there?

"Was it?" Tess' derisive sneer was enough of an indication to Max that she had already gone on the defensive, and wasn't going to be hearing anything anyone said to her. And sure enough, she continued with a vicious, "Just fess up, Isabel. We both know you think I'm a traitor. At least be brave enough to admit it to my face."

"Stop twisting my words, I never said…"

"Isabel, stop it! You too, Tess. This arguing is not getting us anywhere," Liz said, raising her voice. Max chanced a quick look around, but neither Jim nor Kyle seemed to be anywhere within hearing distance. He wondered how they would react if they were here, listening to this.

There was a tense silence from within the bedroom. Max hesitated, licked his lips, ready to interrupt.

Then Tess said, "I didn't do it. I didn't do anything to him. And that's the truth."

"Then who did?" Liz asked. Tess must have made some sort of expression, because Liz apparently rushed on to say, "I believe you. Really, I do. But _someone_ did something, and if it wasn't you, then… then who did it?"

"I don't know," Tess muttered.

Deciding it was now time to enter the conversation, Max stepped around the corner in the hallway and walked into the room. His eyes travelled quickly over everything. Tess was leaning against the wall, arms folded defiantly over her chest. Liz was perched on the edge of the chair by the desk, and her gaze moved automatically to Max as he entered. Isabel was standing close to the bed, but she didn't look at Max, instead choosing to study Tess.

"What's going on?" Max demanded. From the sounds of it, someone was in trouble, and he was not going to be kept in the dark this time.

It took a moment for the answer to come, then Liz said cautiously, "When your future self came back… he told us about the timelines in which Alex was killed."

Max flicked his gaze to Tess, and her blue eyes darkened angrily at him. To Liz, he said in a tone of forced calm, "Yeah, I know. You told me all that."

"And… the way we knew that Alex had been mind-warped… he… uh… he started tapping his fingers a lot. So did Kyle and… and Maria's mother," Isabel said. Her gaze had grown thoughtful, and she turned away from Tess and gave Max her full attention.

"So?" Max asked, crossing to stand next to Liz and resting his hand on the back of her chair.

At the same time, Tess said sharply, "I didn't…"

"What you did then is not the discussion at the moment," Liz interrupted before Tess could finish her thought, "and you've already said that you didn't do anything this time." Her tone was calm, although underlined with firm resolve. "Let's just focus on the problem at hand."

"The _problem at hand_," Tess spat, "seems to be you and Isabel barging in her and accusing me. And whatever you both might say to the contrary, that is _exactly_ what you did."

"Look, I'm sorry," Isabel said, shaking her head. "We didn't mean to make it sound like an accusation. But we're worried. Panicked, even. Come on, Tess. We love him, and we don't know what is going on, and we're scared, and we're allowed to screw up our words sometimes." She chewed her lip for a moment, running a hand through her hair with a weary sigh. "I believe you," she added.

"Why?" Tess asked skeptically, obviously still not entirely sure she should trust what Isabel was saying.

"Accident or not," Isabel answered calmly, "there was no excuse for killing Alex. But you haven't killed him in this timeline and… and we _are_ family. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt on this one."

"Oh, so this is charity? Thanks, Isabel, that makes me feel so much better," was Tess' furious reply.

The argument threatened to completely derail the previous conversation, and Max still hadn't gotten his answers. But his fear and apprehension were growing with every passing second, with every word uttered. It was clear that someone was in trouble – possibly Alex – and he needed to know exactly what was going on, otherwise how could they stop whatever tragedy was looming ahead?

"Guys! Focus," Max cut in. "Is it Alex? Is something wrong with him?"

"No, not Alex," Isabel said, and as she stared at Max, her face began to slowly pale, losing its color.

"Then who?" Max questioned. "You said it was someone you and Liz both love and I know Alex was killed in the other timelines… Does this have something to do with mind-warp? With tapping fingers?"

Again, a faint silence, and then Tess murmured, "Max." He looked at her, and she nodded her head towards his hand, the one that was resting on the back of Liz's chair. "Look."

He looked down, and found himself staring in utter horror as his fingers idly drummed against the wood.


	21. The Seventh Dimension II: Positivity

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: To answer one of the reviews, I am in no way trying to imply that Max's opinions about other characters' actions and motivations are correct. They are simply his opinions, and since the story is told only from his point of view, that's all we get. I am trying to keep his perception in line with how he reacted to things on the show (with a few changes, of course, for all the things that are happening in this story), but you will need to use your own memory of characters from the show to determine if he is correct in his judgment.

Also, to address the issue of Max considering whether or not to intervene between Michael and Maria – intervene just means to get in the middle of something. There is nothing about it that indicates physical violence, or that Michael would hit Maria, or that Max thought that he would do that. He was just preparing to interfere if necessary – and when has a single character on this show _not_ interfered in the relationships of someone else?

* * *

The Seventh Dimension II: Positivity

_There is little difference in people, but that little difference makes a big differences. The little difference is attitude. The big difference is whether it is positive or negative._

_-W Clement Stone_

It felt weird to be sitting in the middle of the room listening to his friends discuss him as though he wasn't even there. He wanted to yell at them, to tell them off, to say something, anything, to get them to acknowledge his presence and include him in the conversation. But at the same time, he wanted to disappear, to slip out of the room unnoticed and sulk on his own, in the privacy of his room.

"Does anyone remember seeing Max tapping his fingers before this?" Isabel asked, chewing her lip as she glanced at each person in turn.

Michael was standing near the kitchen in his apartment, and he had yet to take his gaze off of Max's face. He was tense, as though expecting his friend to lose his senses and suddenly attack them all. Maria was leaning into Michael, but she wasn't looking at Max. Instead, her gaze was continually switching back and forth between Liz and Tess, alternating concern and accusation. Tess was resting against the wall, arms folded over her chest, glaring at all of them furiously. Liz was sitting on the sofa next to Max, holding his hand tightly as though her mere presence could somehow protect him from the insidious evil that had crept, unnoticed, into his mind. Alex was standing behind them, near Isabel, and his expression was calm and collected.

Max thought ironically that Alex was probably the only person in the room who could think clearly at the moment. And he was the one who had died because of this sort of problem in another timeline.

"I… I don't know," Liz murmured in answer to Isabel's question. "Maybe."

"Maybe? Oh, that's helpful," Michael drawled. To Max, he said, "Can't you just break through the mind-warp or something?"

Max rolled his eyes. "Yes. It is that simple," he deadpanned. "I can just magically make the thing go away."

"Well, can't Tess?" Maria reasoned. Max raised his eyebrows at her, and she explained, "I mean, think about it. If Tess had nothing to do with this like she claims, then why not have her undo it?"

"How?" Tess snapped. "How am I supposed to undo something when I don't even know what it is?" She paused, then added viciously, "And I had nothing to do with this, Maria, so stop acting like an arrogant, stubborn brat."

"Hey," Maria retorted viciously, "Max has been mind-warped. What am I supposed to think?"

"I don't know, Maria, but why don't you use your head for once and think this through, hm? If I had mind-warped Max, don't you think I would have then mind-warped Liz and Isabel, too, at the point that they confronted me? Why would I have let them come to all of you?"

"All part of your master plan?" Maria shot back. "How should I know how your pathetically twisted mind works? You are the one who killed Alex and betrayed us all in another life."

"Yeah… and right now, you're giving me such a good reason to not want to join the skins," Tess grumbled sarcastically. "You're just pissed because you were wrong about me and you don't have anyone to blame."

"Stop it! Both of you, just _stop_ it!" Isabel cried, jumping to her feet. "Max has been _mind-warped_. This is the same thing that melted Alex's brain, that killed him, in another life. My brother could be _dying_ and you want to stand there and throw insults at each other?"

There was a tense silence, then Maria said, "Fine. Whatever, I'm sorry." Looking at Max, she said, "Any reason anyone would mind-warp you?"

"To find the Granolith, maybe?" Max suggested.

"But no one's gone after the Granolith yet," Liz pointed out logically as Isabel sank back to the sofa and buried her head in her hands. Alex rested his hands on Isabel's shoulders, and Liz started at the statuesque hybrid for a moment, before adding, "And Nicolas is dead. So who would it be?"

"Anyway, if they wanted information," Tess added, "the mind-warp isn't the way to go. What was that thing that Courtney said Nicolas could do? Stealing people's memories?"

"Mind-rape," Michael agreed. "So… why would someone use a mind-warp?"

Tess ran a hand through her hair and considered the question for a long moment. Then she said slowly, thoughtfully, "It makes the most sense to use it if you want to force someone to do something, or act a certain way, or feel a certain emotion."

"Like if someone wanted Max to take them to the Granolith and activate it?" Isabel suggested.

Tess shrugged. "Yeah. Also, if they want to make Max forget something. That is another thing that can be done with a mind-warp." She looked at Max, and he caught her gaze, then she lowered her eyes and stared at the floor, lost in her own thoughts.

"Okay… so what do we do?" Liz asked, looking uneasily at Max. "I mean… we don't really seem to know anything and…" Max could see the worry and fear in her eyes, and wished there was something he could say to ease her distress. But he was just as afraid as she was, perhaps more so as he was now facing the very real possibility that someone else could be controlling his actions. He squeezed her hand gently, and she squeezed back, but the trepidation did not fade from her eyes.

"It doesn't make sense," Isabel said after a short silence. "I mean… it doesn't really seem like Max has done anything. Nobody's dead, the Granolith is still here, the skins haven't attacked… If someone is mind-warping him, what are they getting out of it?"

No one had an answer to that, and Max rose slowly to his feet. Liz got up as well, standing by his side, and he knew he ought to feel grateful for her support. But somehow, the emotion wouldn't come. Instead, he was left with frustration and annoyance.

Nobody had any idea why this was happening to him. For all he knew, he could start attacking his friends at any second. Added to that burden was the ever-increasing feeling that he just wasn't cut out for this. He wasn't a leader, and it was foolish of him to pretend otherwise.

"You should stay here," he said to Liz.

She looked at him, hurt and confusion filling the lines of her face. "Why?"

Licking his lips, he couldn't quite meet her gaze as he said, "Someone is screwing with my head. I could be dangerous. It's not safe for people to be around me right now."

"But you shouldn't be alone," Liz protested.

"I'll go with him," Isabel offered, crossing to Max's side. Max opened his mouth to argue, but she jumped in, accurately guessing his concern and answering it before he could say the words allowed. "I know, I know, you're worried you're dangerous. I can take care of myself, Max. And it is better than letting you go home and be with Mom and Dad by yourself. God only knows what the skins might make you do to them."

Max flushed darkly at the thought and nodded reluctantly. He didn't want to put his sister in danger, but neither could he accept the risk of allowing something to happen to his parents.

The two of them walked from the apartment, and Max paused in the doorway long enough to glance back at the others. Maria and Michael were whispering, Tess was still staring blankly into space, and Alex was trying to comfort Liz. But Liz was paying no attention to her friend, and was instead gazing at Max, fear and heartbreak in her eyes.

Max knew she wanted to help. Knew that, to her, it felt like she was abandoning him, and she's was scared he was drifting away. _He_ was scared he was drifting away as well, but Liz couldn't help him with this. Until he knew he was no longer a threat to her…

He turned resolutely away from her and followed Isabel out the door.

* * *

It was only a couple hours later that Max found himself standing in the alley outside the back entrance to the Crashdown, trying to convince himself that eavesdropping wasn't unethical at all.

He really hadn't wanted to stay at home, but neither did he have anywhere to go. He'd left the house over an hour ago, and had simply started wandering the streets. Part of him had wanted to go to the pod chamber, hoping the Granolith would offer some kind of answer. But another part of him, the paranoid part, kept wondering if perhaps that was what the skins had intended all along. Were they watching him? Hoping he would lead them right to it?

So his feet had, of their own accord, led him here, to the Crashdown. He couldn't go in, because he knew both Liz and Maria would be working, and he didn't want to see either of them. He couldn't take Liz's pleading looks or Maria's hard words.

So he had wandered around to the side of the diner, and found the back door propped open enough that he could hear Liz and Maria talking. He held his breath and listened.

"…just thinking about it. I mean… Max has been acting a little bit out of character, hasn't he?"

"What do you mean, chica?"

There was a pause, and Liz moved away from the door, her voice becoming fainter. Max had to strain to catch the words. "He yelled at Isabel earlier. And… I know he keeps doubting his ability to lead. And not in a good way, not in a cautious,_ I'm going to be careful so I don't get us all killed_ way. More like… oh, I don't know. Like he's… lost hope and faith in himself. Does that make sense?"

"You spend way too much time reading psychology books, Liz."

"It's Alex who likes psychology, remember?"

"Yeah… Alex." There was another pause, then Maria said, "When Tess' mind-warp killed Alex, didn't Future Max say he started acting really weird. People thought it was suicide."

"Max isn't suicidal!"

"Hey, call down. I'm not saying your Prince Charming is going to kill himself. Alex wasn't suicidal, either. But acting like it… that is an effect of extensive mind-warp, isn't it?"

"I guess so. We'd have to ask Tess."

Maria snorted, and Max could clearly picture her expression. Obviously, she didn't like the blonde hybrid any more now than she had four months ago when they had first learned the truth.

"Maria…" Liz's voice was soft, but there was a slight reprimand.

"Liz, she's made no attempt to even be friendly to us since Future Max's visit. Doesn't that bother you? Doesn't it bother you that she tried to get between you and Max just because she thought she was entitled. That she mind-warped him into fantasizing about her? Doesn't it bother you that she doesn't even seem to get why that was wrong?"

"I just don't believe she's going to kill anyone," was Liz's steadfast and determined reply.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I have to suddenly like her."

"No… but can't you at least be civil to her? We're supposed to be doing things as a group, remember? The more divisive we are, the easier it will be for Khivar to take over and kill us all. I'd like to not die, and I'd like you to not die, either."

"I'm not going to die, Liz."

"You don't know that. You die in every other timeline, Maria. You die protecting me. And…and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you. Or Max. We just… we need to work together and we need to be careful, okay? I can't do this without you."

There was a long silence, and Max wondered if they had gone back into the main room of the diner. He also briefly wondered who was waiting on all the tables if the two of them were back here talking. But Maria had never cared more about her job than about her friend, and Liz was clearly to distraught to worry much about all the diner's patrons.

He wished he could say something comforting. How many times had he made the wish in the past day? Past year? Would he ever find the right thing to say, the right words to make it all better?

Would it ever _get_ better?

Then he heard Liz's voice again. "Maria? What if… what if this _isn't_ a side effect of the mind-warp?"

"What?" asked Maria, and she sounded just as confused as Max felt.

"The whole hopeless, depressed, _I can't lead_ thing. What if… what if it isn't a side effect?"

"You think Max is actually depressed, chica?"

"No. I meant…" A hesitation, as though she couldn't quite figure out if this was what she wanted to say. "What if… what if this _is_ the mind-warp? What if whoever is behind it wants Max to doubt himself enough so that… so that he _can't_ lead, and then we lose?"

"But then why wouldn't they just kill him? If they've gotten close enough to… to do this to him. Why not just kill him? And the rest of us, for that matter?"

A sigh, then Liz said, "I don't know."

* * *

"What do you want, Michael?"

Michael shrugged and stepped into the room. "World peace. On both our worlds. And an end to poverty and hunger. An end to disease, too, and to needless death." He paused, tilting his head to the side, then added with a straight face, "And a car. Preferably a Porche."

Max quirked a small smile. "Never pictured you as the Porche type."

He looked away from Michael then, and out at the sky that was just visible through the top of his window. The sun was setting. It had been a full twenty-four hours since the truth had come out, since he had realized that somebody else was controlling his mind, and they were no closer to discovering the truth than before.

"Maria's worried," Michael said with a shrug, flopping down on the chair by Max's desk. "Well, Parker is worried, and Maria's worried because of that. But, whatever… I'm over here because Maria thinks you're going to go crazy and kill everyone. Or yourself."

Max nodded glumly and didn't bother answering.

"So, anyway, want to watch a movie or something? Because hanging around here seems kind of boring," Michael suggested.

Max rolled his eyes. "What movie?"

But Michael didn't answer. He was looking not at Max's face, but at his hands. Max looked down as well, and saw his fingers tapping idly against the comforter of his bed.

"Maxwell? What are you thinking about right now?"

Max barely registered the question. It echoed in his mind, but he gazed at his fingers and focused on the rhythmic drumming that seemed so out of his control.

"Maxwell!" Michael's voice was sharper this time.

"That I don't want to do this," Max answered softly, slowly lifting his gaze to Michael's face. "That I'm not cut out to lead, and I'd rather just spend time watching movies and hanging out with my friends."

"Do you… can you remember…anything about who was mind-warping you? About what happened when… when this all started?"

Max shook his head numbly. "I… no. I can't. It's all…" He pushed himself off his bed, stilling the movement of his fingers and putting his nervous energy into pacing instead. Michael watched him silently, and Max thought he saw a flicker of something unreadable in his best friend's eyes. Or had he imagined it?

Maybe he was going insane. Wasn't that what happened to Alex?

He could see his reflection in the windowpane. It was faint, of course, and translucent, mixed in with the branches of the tree outside his window and the roof of the houses opposite him. But as he stared at his face, it seemed to change, to morph…

He was staring at Nicolas. A lifeless Nicolas.

He jolted, tearing his gaze away. Spinning to face Michael, he said, "Nicolas. I saw Nicolas. What he looked like right after I killed him." He licked his lips and paused in his pacing, rubbing his hands on his arms. "That's when this started."

"When you killed Nicolas?" Michael questioned, furrowing his brow. "But they're were only three of us in the car then, Max. It obviously wasn't you or me, and you're quite adamant that it wasn't Tess, so that leaves…"

"Courtney," Max finished.

* * *

Sunday evening at 10 o'clock was probably not the best time to go chasing down a possibly enemy skin, but Max refused to wait until the next day. Courtney had answers, he was sure of that now, and he was not going to delay the confrontation.

He didn't know where Courtney lived, but it didn't matter, because a quick phone call to Liz confirmed that Courtney was still at the Crashdown, helping to close. The idea that Courtney was now alone with Liz and Maria, the other patrons having left as the diner closed for the night, spurned Max into action.

He made it to the Crashdown in record time. He also didn't follow the town's speed limits.

Courtney was wiping down one of the tables when Max entered the Crashdown, locking the door behind him. It wouldn't be enough to stop her, of course, and the glass windows at the front of the diner would prevent him from using his powers to make sure she didn't run. Hopefully she would have enough common sense to want to avoid exposure as well, and wouldn't try anything while people on the street could still see them.

Courtney looked up, and Liz and Maria, who were gathering their belongings, paused at the sight of their two boyfriends. Michael moved swiftly to Maria's side, pushing her roughly behind him so that he was between her and Courtney, and Max ordered in a tense voice, "Liz, go stand by Michael."

Liz didn't question the request, and hurried to comply.

Then Max grabbed Courtney and pushed her backwards, his eyes flashing dangerously with strength and courage he knew he didn't actually possess. But he had to appear strong, had to appear in control… because even the slightest bit of doubt could paralyze him.

"Why?" he asked, almost snarling. "Just tell me why!"

"What are you talking about?" Courtney asked, side-stepping him. She moved quickly, placing a table between the two, letting her questioning gaze flick to Michael.

"Why did you mind-warp me?" he snapped.

"Max… I don't have that power," Courtney protested. "Tess does, and some of the other skins. But I don't…"

"Yes, you do," Max argued, refusing to be swayed by her calm answer. Courtney had never told them all her powers, and he had never bothered to ask. Perhaps he should have, perhaps it would have been better if he had demanded that she tell him everything she knew instead of just accepting her help at face value.

He wavered for a moment. He should have done it differently, he should have…

"Max, if someone is mind-warping you, this is serious," Courtney said worriedly. "You need to find out who it is, and quickly. But I assure you, it isn't me."

"I… I don't believe you," Max said hoarsely. "It started when I killed Nicolas. Something _you_ made me do!"

"To protect you, to keep you safe," Courtney answered. "Max, you know the sorts of things Nicolas did to all of you in other timelines. Why would you want to leave him alive? I was just trying to help you, to make sure you didn't make the same mistakes again."

"Max… things are better now that Nicolas is gone," Liz pointed out diffidently from where she was standing by Michael's side. "Isn't that what we determined from your dreams? That all those horrible things you were seeing… and feeling… those were things that would have happened, if Nicolas was still alive."

Max nodded slowly. That was true. Had he been wrong? Had he just jumped to this conclusion because it seemed so obvious, so easy? Was he just looking for someone to blame?

"Maxwell," Michael interrupted, "you said the mind-warp started as soon as you killed Nicolas. That's what you remembered, right? So it had to be Courtney."

Max hesitated. What he knew for certain was that the mind-warps focused on Nicoals' death, one what he had been forced to do. But maybe… maybe he had been wrong about when they started. Maybe they had started later, after they had returned to Roswell. Or earlier, when they had first come to Copper Summit… it could have been another skin behind it.

Maybe it wasn't Courtney. It wasn't like they had any proof.

"I can help you figure out who is behind this," Courtney offered tentatively. "We can… we can try to look at your mind. If you want…"

"Is that a good idea?" Liz asked skeptically. "If it's like what she did to Future Max… I mean, she knocked him unconscious, and he was confused and disoriented when he came out of it."

"If it figures out who is behind this, it is worth it," Courtney said firmly. "If someone is trying to control Max, it _has_ to be stopped. We can't take the risk that they get access to the Granolith. If Khivar finds it, we're all doomed."

Max hesitated, torn. He had been so sure it was Courtney, but… But she had helped him stop the Harvest and kill Nicolas, one of the worst enemies they would ever face. She knew where the Granolith was, had even seen it used, and hadn't told any of the skins, hadn't tried to take it for herself. If she was their enemy, why was she acting like she was on their side?

Unless, of course, she wasn't their enemy.

But he had been so sure…

And apparently he was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.

But then Maria said, "No. No, I don't buy it."

"Buy what?" Max asked, looking at her.

The blonde stepped around Michael, but still stayed close to his side as she studied Courtney intently. "You're not dead. You're not crazy. You haven't tried to kill us, haven't tried to turn the Granolith over to Khivar. You haven't lead your enemies to us, haven't exposed the four of you to the FBI. As far as I can tell, the only thing that has happened to you is that you've become moody and lost faith in your ability to lead."

Max nodded mutely. She said it like it was no big deal, like depression and despair and hopelessness happened all the time.

"Well… isn't that _exactly_ what Courtney would want?"

"She's right," Liz murmured, nodding as she turned a furious glare towards Courtney. "You don't want Khivar to win. You want us to win… and you want Michael on the throne. That's why you're doing this to Max. That's why you want him to think he can't lead. So he's out of the way… but still alive. Because all four of them are needed and…"

"You're babbling now," Courtney said, and her voice was suddenly cold and unfriendly. She moved away from Max, shaking her head. "Alright, fine. I admit it. You were right. And I don't want Zan – Max – on the throne."

"But… why?" Max whispered, feeling both horrified and vindicated at the same time. "Why _this_? Why would you… how could you do this to me? You could have killed me!"

Courtney gave him a long, searching look, then said carelessly, "You weren't going to die. I've been doing this for a long time, and I know just how much a mind can handle. I was careful. Certainly more careful than Tess was with Alex."

"But…" Again, Max was at a loss for words, confusion robbing him of the ability to speak. He wasn't surprised that Courtney had her own plans and goals, but he just couldn't understand how she could have no remorse for what she had done. She'd pushed him into depression and despair, nearly convinced him that he couldn't lead…

Courtney seemed to understand what he was trying to say, and she said sharply, "You _aren't_ fit to lead, Max. That's why I did this, that's why I tried to get you out of the way. Anyone can see that you'd be a disaster."

"Then why not just kill him?" Maria demanded. Max sent her an incredulous look, and she defended herself, "It's just a question, Max. You've got to be wondering about it, also."

"I don't underestimate Khivar," Courtney said simply, folding her arms over her chest. She sighed heavily and shook her head, looking pensive. "Until Khivar is dead and his most loyal supporters defeated, we won't have peace on Antar. And he's too strong too powerful, to defeat without all four of you. As much as I hate to say it, Max _is_ needed."

"So you decided to screw up the mind of one of the people you admit is needed to stop a civil war," Maria said sarcastically. "Brilliant, really."

"After this is all over," Courtney continued, ignoring Maria, "there will still be people who support Khivar. And people who support you. And people who supported the old Royal Four, but despise you for your human halves. Their opinions won't be strong enough to make them start a war… yet. It will take skilled diplomacy and a whole bunch of negotiations and mediation to keep that world from falling apart. You can take that throne, Max, but you don't have it in you to stop this. You won't bring peace, you'll just stick a Band-Aid on a bullet hole and stem the flow of blood for another couple years. But then the Band-Aid won't be enough anymore, and tensions will rise, and we'll be right back where we started, with another war, and another Khivar ready to take your throne. We _need_ Michael."

Maria laughed. "You're placing your hope for the future in Michael? You think he's some kind of Great Negotiator?" With a smirk and a quick look at her boyfriend, she quipped, "Clearly, you don't know him as well as you knew Rath."

Michael shoved her in mock anger. "Hey!" But then his expression hardened into one of fury, and he said coldly, "So you decided to play with Max's mind? Is that it?"

Courtney let out a breath. "What if I did? He's proven himself to be utterly incapable of leading, hasn't he?"

"That was you!" Liz protested. "That was _you_ screwing up his mind. How can you judge him on that?"

Courtney gave her a disdainful look. "You'll forgive me if I don't consider you the best judge of character," she drawled.

"What do you mean?"

Courtney continued to smirk, her expression smug and arrogant. "Tell me something, Liz, what was your reason for deciding Tess was trustworthy?"

"I… she just… she hadn't done anything yet…" Liz floundered.

Courtney narrowed her eyes, eyebrows knitting together thoughtfully. "Really? Nasedo told her about his deal with the skins, didn't he? So she knew that they were going to come after the four of you, knew that she was expected to sell you out… and whether she had decided to betray you or to betray them… well, she certainly hadn't told you the truth, had she? In fact, it wasn't until your darling Max of the Future came along and nearly forced her to reveal all that information that you even learned about any of it. So… she did do something, didn't she? She _lied_."

"Okay, so she shouldn't have done that," Liz said, "but…"

"But you didn't care, did you?" Courtney mocked. Liz lapsed into silence, still staring at Courtney, and the skin pushed, "Because you wanted your soul mate by your side. Your precious Max… you knew what would happen if he turned against Tess. You'd seen it, hadn't you? He votes to send Tess off to the government scientists, and next thing you know he's become a dark, twisted, inhuman shadow of himself… and he hates you. And you didn't want that, did you?"

"What's wrong with wanting to protect the person I love?" Liz demanded hotly.

"You didn't have _proof_," Courtney sneered. "Maybe Tess is on your side. She certainly hasn't done anything in this timeline to indicate that she is going to betray you all. But you didn't have any way of knowing that when you made up your mind four months ago. You let your desire to keep Max at your side get in the way of everything else… including your desire to protect your little computer geek."

"That's not… I would never… I love Alex!" Liz spat, her face flushed with anger, splotches of color appearing on her cheeks. She stumbled over her words, fury making it hard to speak, and Max moved quickly to her side, offering silent support.

"Of course you do," Courtney agreed. "I never doubted that. But somehow, you managed to convince yourself that he wasn't in any danger. That you could protect Max and not worry about him… because Max mattered _more_."

"No… No, that's not true! I was trying to give Tess a… a second chance. She deserved it, she hadn't… she hadn't killed him yet!"

Courtney chuckled darkly, shaking her head. "Keep telling yourself that one, sweetheart," she said in a dangerously soft tone. "Maybe one day it will come true. But in the mean time, we both know your decision to give Tess a _second chance_ had nothing to do with _her_ and everything to do with _your_ future happiness. So stop lying to my face and stop pretending to be some kind of saint."

"Don't talk to her like that!" Max hissed, striding forward and extending his hand threateningly towards Courtney. "Don't you dare talk to her like that!"

Courtney lapsed into silence, but that same maddening smirk was plastered on her features, and it did not waver for even a second.

"So… now what?" she asked after a pause. "You've come storming over here filled with righteous indignation and yet apparently none of you have a clue what comes next. You've caught me, I admit to mind-warping Max. So now what? What's your next move?"

Max exchanged a look with Michael, but said nothing. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to answer the question. Given all that Courtney had done to him, he couldn't very well allow her to stay here, in Roswell. But he also couldn't force her to leave, not unless he wanted to resort to violence. And she did not seem like the kind of person who would give in without a fight.

"God, you're pathetic," Courtney muttered. "All of you."

"Even your precious Michael?" Maria asked spitefully.

Courtney stared at Michael for a minute, then said, "You think it would have been easy for me to mind-warp Max if he wasn't already filled with self-doubt? I can't create feelings, that's true. But mostly, I just play off of what was already there. And Max… let's just say confidence wasn't really one of his strong points." To Max, she said coolly, "You're too damn cautious. Like you don't want to upset anyone. You're the kid who wants to be friends with everyone in his grade so he doesn't bother forming his own opinions, just goes along with what everyone else says and does."

Max scuffed the floor with the toe of his sneakers and didn't look at her. She was right, after all, and he didn't have a counter argument.

"Then we've got Liz, the saint. Has to be right, has to be loving, has to be kind and caring and respected by everyone. And if anyone is going give the appearance of making a sacrifice, it's going to be her." Courtney paused, then shifted her gaze to Maria. "Unless, of course, we're dealing with the martyr Maria. Puts up with her unpredictable and emotionally immature boyfriend, acts like _she's_ the one suffering because _he_ doesn't want her to get hurt. And ready and willing to die for her best friend. Have you even considered the possibility that instead of putting so much time into convincing everyone that you get to decide if the risk is worth it, you should be focusing on trying to figure out a way to _avoid_ death?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Maria snarled.

"Don't I?" Courtney's smirk grew to a grin. "I told you that you needed to stick together, act as a group. And somehow, you took that to mean spend as much time chasing your boyfriend as possible, and ignore everyone else. Do you even know what is going on in the lives of Alex, Kyle, or Tess? Do you _care_?"

Liz had sunk into a nearby chair at some point during Courtney's tirade, and her face was pale, her eyes wide and haunted. She didn't say anything, but she held Max's gaze for a beat, and he wondered what she was thinking. How much had Courtney's words struck home?

"You're good at getting into people's heads," Michael said suddenly, breaking the tense silence. "But you won't get into mine." He turned towards the windows at the front of the Crashdown and flicked one hand, causing all the blinds to snap shut. Then he turned back to Courtney and pressed his palm towards her, causing the chairs behind her to go skidding into the wall. "Nothing you say changes the fact that you _attacked_ Max."

"A mind-warp is hardly an attack," Courtney snapped.

"It seems like an attack to me," Michael said. Eyes narrowed, he ordered, "Sit down."

"Michael…"

"_Sit down!_"

A chair slid towards Courtney, knocking into her and causing her to stumble. She sat down quickly, still watching Michael. And for the first time, she seemed apprehensive.

"What now?" Michael asked, turning to Max. "What do we do with her?"

Max shrugged. "What do you think?"

"You're the king," Michael said firmly, "so start acting like it. Prove Courtney wrong. Prove that you _can_ lead."

Max remained silent, thinking uneasy thoughts.

"She can't be trusted, Maxwell," Michael said. "What happens when she decides someone else needs to move out of the way of her plans? Do you want her to do to Isabel or Liz what she did to you?"

Max stiffened. That was unacceptable. He had spent four months doubting himself. Four months feeling lost and hopeless and helpless. Four months wondering if the others would be better off without him trying to lead. Four months constantly thinking about Nicolas, about the blood on his hands and the life he had taken, about what it meant to be a killer.

Four months, all of it created or exacerbated by her.

He would not let her do that to Isabel or Liz. He would _not_ let anything like that happen to them.

He didn't want to lead, didn't want to make this difficult decision, didn't want to be faced with the knowledge that whatever choice he made, he would have to live with the consequences of it.

But what other choice did he have?

He hesitated, but then gave a slow, reluctant nod. He honestly didn't think that Courtney would hurt them – physically, anyway – or that she would join Khivar. She wasn't Nicolas, and he couldn't kill her. But he also couldn't allow her to stay here, to play with their lives, manipulate them as pawns in her schemes.

He hadn't wanted to kill Nicolas. Up until the very moment that he committed the deed, he didn't think he had it in him. But then he had seen what Nicolas and the skins had done to Liz, he had seen that flash of what the future could look like… and he had known he couldn't let that happen.

Once again, he was here, stuck in a role he didn't want, asked to make a decision that would probably haunt him for a very long time. But the lives of all the people he loved where at stake and… He wasn't Zan and he didn't know if he could lead, but he wasn't going to let anyone, not even Courtney, stop him from trying.

"I want you to leave Roswell," Max said, marching forward with bravery he didn't feel. "I want you to get as far away from this city as you can." He grabbed Courtney by the shoulders and pulled her up to a standing position. "You can fight Khivar on Antar. You can fight the skins on Earth if they come here. But you will stay away from us. Is that clear?"

"You really think I'm afraid of you?" Courtney demanded tauntingly.

"You should be," Max said, lowering his voice. "I'll kill you if I have to, Courtney. More blood on my hands is that thing I want, but I don't trust you. And if I have to kill you to keep you away from my family, I'll do it."

"I don't believe you," Courtney scoffed.

Max didn't let the cold expression waver, didn't let his fear and hurt and doubt poke through. Keeping his face calm and his gaze icy, he flung out both hands and sent Courtney reeling, knocking her to the ground. Inside, he was shaking, and a little voice in his head kept asking him, over and over, why he was doing this.

She was right. He couldn't lead. He should just listen to her and give up the throne now. It was better than pretending to be a king, better than leading his family to their deaths.

But…

He felt, rather than saw, Michael and Liz move to stand behind him, silently flanking him on either side. Maria stepped around the table and stood off to the right of Courtney, mutely blocking off her chance of slipping around them. There was only one direction for her to go now… out the front door.

Max swallowed back his fears and continued to stare at her. He could do this. He had Michael and Liz. And Isabel. And Maria, and Alex, and Tess. And probably even Kyle and Jim. And maybe, just maybe, he could do this.

"Believe me now?" he asked softly.

Courtney shivered and rose to her feet, watching him through wary eyes. For a long, tense moment, she said nothing. Max curled his fingers into fists and gathered his energy together, ready for another demonstration of his power if she chose to ignore his words.

Then Courtney said, "Good luck, Max. I have a feeling you're going to need it."

And she turned and walked away from them, slipping out the diner's front door and disappearing into the night.

* * *

And once again, he found himself eavesdropping. This time it was at school, during lunch, and Maria and Liz were talking to Alex in an empty classroom. He leaned against the wall outside the room, listening, and thinking to himself that this was a remarkably bad habit he had picked up and really he should stop it.

But he didn't.

"…and then Courtney left," Maria's voice was loud and ecstatic at the departure of the rebel skin. She had clearly just finished telling the story of the previous night.

"So Max's is going to be okay?" was Alex's concerned reply.

"Yeah. Yeah, he'll be fine once he figures out how to get his head back on straight," Maria answered.

"Alex… can I ask you a question?" Liz's voice was diffident, and Max could almost see her playing with a strand of hair and looking determinedly at the floor to avoid Alex's eyes.

"Sure."

"Were you… were you ever annoyed that I didn't take the threat of Tess killing you seriously?"

"Not really. I was a little surprised you were so forgiving, seeing as Maria and Isabel both wanted to kill her in the beginning. But I hear she's getting along with Isabel now." There was a momentary pause, then Alex questioned, "So… why do you ask?"

Max heard Liz sigh before she answered, "I don't know. Courtney said a lot of stuff before she left. It just made me wonder if maybe… maybe I do things for all the wrong reasons. I just… I want to be with Max. But not at the cost of you or Maria."

"Nothing is going to happen to me, chica."

"You don't know that. You can't promise me that."

"I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure I don't die. But I also won't turn my back of my friends. And that's all anyone can really promise."

"You know, I think Courtney forgot something kind of important." Alex's voice was thoughtful, contemplative. "She forgot that we're all teenagers."

"So you're saying we're all immature screw-ups?" was Maria's amused reply.

"Yes, that's exactly it," Alex said dryly. Another silence, then he added, "I'm just saying none of us have ever tried to fight a war or rule a planet before. Of course we'll all make mistakes. We just have to learn from them and move on, right? And at least we know a lot about mistakes we made in other timelines, and maybe we can avoid them this time around."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you eavesdropping is impolite?" a voice murmured, and Max spun around to find Tess standing behind him in the hallway, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh… hey, Tess," he said cautiously.

"Isabel told me that it was Courtney," Tess said.

"Yeah," Max agreed. "But she's gone now. So… that's good."

"Your enthusiasm is catching," Tess responded sarcastically.

Max sighed. He wished he could put into words how uneasy he had felt after talking to Courtney. Yes, there was a part of him that felt relief now, and a new sense of hope that things would be better in this future. That he could make them better. But she had also left him with a feeling of apprehension, a vague disconcert that he couldn't describe.

"It won't be easy to win this," he said finally. "But I'm… optimistic. And I certainly was not before. So yes, that is good."

Tess shrugged. "Right. Anyway, I've got to go, Kyle is waiting for me. I'll see you around, Max."

Max watched her walk away for a moment, then called out, "Hey, Tess?"

She looked at him, blue eyes questioning. "Yeah?"

"You… you haven't shown any interest in hanging out with us over the past four months. I just… I just want make sure that…"

"That I'm not going to betray you all and join your enemy?" Tess muttered, coming closer to him and lowering her voice so that she wouldn't be overheard by any of the wrong people.

Max sighed. "No. I just wanted to make sure that… that everything's okay."

Tess searched his face, looking for something. He didn't know whether or not she found it, but she said at last, "We're not friends, Max. I like Isabel, maybe I'll be friends with her. And I certainly like Kyle. But you, Michael, Maria, Liz, Alex… I'm not saying I dislike you, because I don't. I'm… ambivalent. You aren't people I'd go out of my way to hang out with. We don't have common interests. We just… we're not compatible."

"I'm sorry," Max apologized. "If there's anything I can do…"

But Tess cut him off with a wave of her hand. "It's not a bad thing, Max. I still care about you. All of you. Because we are family. And I haven't been as clear about this as I should have, I haven't really told you where I stand. I'm not going to hang out with all of you, and I'm not going to gossip about all my secret feelings or whatever it is you guys do. But with or without destiny, you're still the King, and I'm still the Queen, and no matter what, I'm on your side and I've got your back."

Max nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, and he knew that was enough.

He watched her walk away and let his thoughts drift back to Courtney. She'd hadn't been an enemy, not in the strictest sense of the word. She hadn't wanted anything bad to happen to him, she'd simply wanted him to give over his throne to Michael and was going about arranging that. She had manipulated him, lied to him, used him... and she had helped him defeat Nicolas. That simple act might have saved countless lives in the future.

And she had given them advice, and even if it had been laced with anger or venom, even if it had been mocking or condescending, even if it had been hard for them to swallow... hadn't it been true? Hadn't she been right when she told them they needed to stick together? Hadn't she been correct when she said they needed to think through the reasons for their actions, make sure they were doing things for all the right reasons? Hadn't her advice been helpful?

And yet... she had proven that she couldn't be trusted. Because, as Michael had pointed out, what would happen the next time she tried something like this? How would they ever know that their feelings were their own? How could he overlook what she had done, justify the bad things she had done by pointing out all the good? And yet... how could he ignore all the good she had done and focus only on the bad?

A few moments passed, and then Liz emerged from the empty classroom and gave Max a surprised look, not expecting to see him there. He smiled and reached out for her hand.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly as Maria and Alex drifted out of the room behind her.

"I will be," he promised.

And Liz continued to gaze at him with concern and uncertainty, and Maria and Alex exchanged banter, and the four of them walked towards the quad, towards the warm sun and the other students, towards Michael and Isabel who were already eating lunch.

And Max knew that he –_they_ – could do this.

* * *

Author's note: In case anyone is interested, Max has been tapping his fingers since the trip to Copper Summit. It's in all of the chapters, a sentence or two about him idly drumming his fingers or whatnot. You can go back and look if you don't believe me. :)


	22. The Eighth Dimension II: Conflict

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Okay, so here's the deal with the rest of the story. There are five chapters and an epilogue left. And each chapter is going to jump forward in time quite a bit. They are each essentially one-shots that deal with whether or not the pod squad and the humans have learned from the mistakes of the different timelines. And they address things that happened in all or most of the timelines (Khivar coming to Earth, Maria's death, the FBI getting involved, etc…) So pay attention to the first sentence of each of the next chapters, as it will tell you exactly how long it has been since Future Max's arrival.

* * *

The Eighth Dimension II: Conflict

_The greatest conflicts are not between two people but between one person and herself._

_-Garth Brooks_

Eighteen months. Eighteen months, and Max felt like he was finally able to breathe. There was only a couple months until graduation, until they could all finally get out of this town and go on with the rest of their lives. Eighteen months and he didn't think about Nicolas or Courtney much anymore, and he didn't so frequently question his ability to lead. He was still cautious, but he didn't second guess himself as much.

And, of course, it helped that nothing alien had happened in the past year. Ever since Courtney had walked out of their lives and not looked back, they had been living like relatively normal teenagers. Michael and Maria bickered and made up constantly, Alex followed Isabel around like a lovesick puppy, and Tess and Kyle attempted to date casually.

Things felt… good.

He should have known, then, that everything was about to come crumbling down.

* * *

"I got in! Max, I got in!"

The excited words burst from Liz's lips the moment she saw him, and before Max could even process what was happening, Liz had thrown her arms around him and he was automatically hugging her back. Maria was sitting at a booth near Max, grinning broadly, an Alex was leaning against the wall of the diner with a pleased, albeit less effusive, expression on his face.

"Uh… what?" Max asked. He knew he should congratulate her, but he also wanted to know what exactly he would be congratulating her for before actually expressing the sentiment.

"I got into Harvard!"

Max gaped, momentarily stunned. It wasn't that he had ever doubted Liz's aptitude or brains, but still… _Harvard_. Even the best and brightest of the country didn't always get in there.

"That's amazing!" he said, laughing as he hugged her again.

"I know, isn't it?" Maria spoke up with a nod. "New York City is only four hours away from Boston so I can go there to be a singer and still see Liz all the time!"

"So you're sure you're going to New York, then?" Max asked, turning in surprise to Maria. He knew they had decided to stay close to one another in case there was another attack by the skins or the FBI, but he didn't realize that anyone else besides Liz had really made any definite plans.

"Yeah, I think so," Maria answered idly, tracing lines on the tabletop.

The conversation was cut off by the arrival of Isabel, who pushed open the door to the Crashdown and came to Max's side with a flushed face and a worried expression. She glanced around nervously, pausing to give Alex a brief smile, and then turned to her brother with wide eyes.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Everything alright?" Alex asked quickly, before Max could answer Isabel's plea for help. He could tell by the nervous twitch of his sister's gaze that she didn't want to talk to Alex about whatever was bothering her.

But why would Isabel come to him for help about something she wanted to keep secret from Alex? Any problems with her boyfriend were more things she would discuss with girls, so wouldn't she want to speak to Liz, Maria, or Tess?

"I'm fine, Alex," she said with a slightly forced smile. "I just need to talk to Max for a moment. Are we still on for our date tomorrow night?"

Alex gave her a searching look, scrutinizing her expression for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, sure. Um… pick you up at seven o'clock?"

Isabel chewed her lip and wrapped her hand around Max's arm. "Great," she said in a falsely cheerful voice, holding Alex's gaze for only one more moment. Then she turned to Max and dragged him behind her as she made her way out of the diner.

As they stepped into the cool night air, Max pulled his arm from Isabel's grip and turned to face her. It was ten-thirty and night and they were supposed to be home soon so their parents wouldn't worry and why was Isabel gazing at him as though the world had ended?

Oh, _God_. Had the world ended?

"Isabel, just tell me what's wrong. Whatever it is, we can deal with it," Max promised her.

They hadn't had an alien problem in a year, and just that morning he had been thinking about how wonderful it was that his biggest problem this year had been normal, teenage arguments. He'd gotten in trouble with his parents for breaking curfew to spend time with Liz, not because he had broken curfew to fight the skins or avoid the FBI. He'd gotten into arguments with Michael because they couldn't agree on what movie to see on their double date, not because they couldn't agree on what their plan of action should be for dealing with yet another crisis.

Just that morning, he'd been thinking how nice it was…

He sighed. He really should have known better than to tempt fate.

Looking around nervously, Isabel muttered, "I'm having these… dreams." She started walking, and Max followed her, hurrying to keep up. "I don't want Alex to know." That stunned Max, and he couldn't think of anything to say, so he just remained silent as Isabel continued, "These dreams… they've been… fantasies. There is this man in them and…"

"Hey! Hey, I don't need to hear any more," Max interrupted, instinctively lifting his hands towards his ears. "If you're fantasizing about someone… I _really_ don't need to know the details."

With an exasperated huff, Isabel said, "This isn't… it isn't normal, Max. I _love_ Alex."

"Okay, look. Isabel, you've been in a committed relationship with the same guy for over a year. And before that you… well, you didn't really ever date seriously. Are you sure you're not just getting cold feet?"

"It happens all the time. At night, when I'm sleeping. Or during class, if I close my eyes for even a moment I'll start daydreaming and… and it's like I can't stop it. Or maybe I don't want to. When I wake up… this morning I had to take a cold shower I was so disappointed."

"Okay, really do not need that image," Max said, rubbing his eyes and trying to forget that his sister was now talking to him about sex.

"I think it is Khivar."

His jaw dropped. "_What_?"

The faint light from the streetlamp illuminated her exhausted features. She continued chewing her lip and rubbed at her eyes with one hand, and Max had a sudden though that it didn't really look like she was getting much asleep. Or, at least, that it wasn't restful.

Isabel turned away from him and glanced back the way they had come. They had walked at least a couple blocks from the Crashdown, and there was really no chance that Alex was anywhere near enough to hear, but…

Max sighed. "Okay, why do you think it is Khivar?"

"He… he says things to me. Like… he asked me if Alex liked my new face. And then he said I won't stay with Alex. And that I'd always be his."

Max considered this for a moment, then said, "So what if it is? It's probably still just a dream."

"Just a dream?" Isabel countered, shaking her head furiously. "No… no, it is more than just a dream. I…"

"Isabel," Max said soothingly, "think about it. You had this affair with Khivar in the past and how did it turn out? It got everyone killed."

Isabel folded her arms over her chest. "Yeah, that's not helping."

"Isabel, listen to me. Don't you see what's going on? It's just a dream, okay? Your subconscious is messing with you. It's just guilt. You feel guilty about what happened back then and you're just… you're just letting it get into your dreams."

"I don't even _know_ what I did back then," Isabel said in agitation, waving her hands in the air as she started to pace. "I mean, all I really know is that I betrayed my whole family for this… this _Khivar_… and, oh God, why? What is _wrong_ with me? I mean... Who _does_ something like that? What if I betray Alex the way I betrayed all of you?"

"Hey, slow down," Max answered, catching her arms and forcing her to stop pacing. "None of us know what happened in that life. All we know for certain is who we are in this life. And in this life, you're Isabel. You're not the kind of person who will betray us. Okay?"

Isabel nodded and leaned back against the nearby building. In the warm night air, she was still shivering, and Max wished there was something else he could say. But he was running out of reassurances to give her.

"What if… what if they're not just dreams?" she asked tentatively, eyes pleading for him to say something to make this nightmare go away. "What if it is really Khivar trying to contact me?"

"What if it is?" Max replied. "Khivar isn't here. He's up there somewhere on a different planet." He gave her his best comforting smile and said firmly, "If he's trying to contact you, we'll deal with it then."

* * *

Despite Max's pep talk, Isabel's anxious mood increased, and it soon became apparent to everyone. Max felt uncomfortable lying to Alex about what was happening, but Isabel had made him promise that this would stay just between the two of them, and Max was reluctant to break that promise.

Alex was not particularly understanding.

"Max, come on," Alex said, pestering the hybrid King as they stood at his locker, "I _know_ something is wrong. Just tell me what it is."

"Alex, if you're having issues with Isabel, you need to talk to her about them," Max replied, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "Alright, just… just talk to her."

Alex rolled his eyes and huffed, "Don't you think I've tried that already? I wouldn't be coming to you if Isabel had been honest with me. But she won't tell me what's wrong, either."

"So then maybe nothing is wrong?" Max suggested, jamming his books into his backpack and looking around. The hall was packed with students, most of whom he recognized but did not know. He was eager to leave Roswell, but part of him was also feeling nostalgic. He might actually miss this place.

"Max," Alex said firmly, "don't lie to me."

Running a hand through his hair, Max gave a shaky nod. "Alright, fine. I won't lie to you, Isabel is worried about something. But it is her secret, Alex, and like I've told you a million other times, you need to get the details from her."

Alex shook his head in frustration and walked away, muttering to himself. Max watched him go thoughtfully, and suddenly he felt a twisting in his gut and he blinked several times to keep his vision from blurring.

"You alright?"

Startled, Max spun around to find Michael standing behind him. "Uh… yeah, just… weird feeling for a moment there."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "Like one of those flashes you get?"

Max nodded mutely. Over the past year, he'd continued to receive what could only be described as flashes of emotion and knowledge. He had yet to see images, but sometimes, while staring at someone, he would suddenly know that something different had happened to them in another timeline.

Like how he knew that Valenti had lost his job as the Sheriff, or the exact day that Liz had left for boarding school, or when he and Liz had nearly ended up in jail because of a heist at a convenience store.

That last one had completely baffled him, but he had been watching television at the beginning of the year – an action flick – and suddenly had the strangest desire to apologize to his parents for making them pick him up from jail.

"What was it?" Michael asked, bringing Max out of his thoughts.

He shook his head wordlessly. He couldn't explain it even if it tried, but he'd felt dread. A hardening of worry in the pit of his stomach, a flicker of fear that something was going to happen… and it involved Isabel.

"Hey, Maxwell. What's going on?" Michael pressed. He was far too perceptive to let this pass, but Max didn't really know what to tell him. Lying to his sister's boyfriend was one thing. Lying to Michael was something else entirely, particularly when it involved Isabel.

"She's having dreams," Max said finally, keeping his voice low. "Uh… romantic dreams."

"About Alex?" Michael asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Apparently he was just as displeased with the mental image as Max had been.

"No, not of Alex," Max said vaguely. Michael's eyebrows rose, and Max sighed. Lowering his voice and glancing around the hallway to make sure they would not be overheard, he explained, "She thinks it's Khivar."

Astonishment was the first emotion to show on Michael's face, followed quickly by concern. But that faded and he said, "So? They're just dreams."

"Yeah, that's what I told her. She's still upset about it."

Michael shrugged. "You got to tell Izzy to relax, okay? She's too stressed and it is causing problems with Alex, which means that Maria's come to complain to me about it several times."

Max nodded. "Yeah… I've been telling her that all along. She doesn't want to relax, Michael, she's upset. I don't know how to change that."

"Well, you'd better figure it out, or Maria's going to drive me insane," Michael retorted. As he walked away from Max, he called back, "And it won't be too long before Liz starts complaining to you, too."

* * *

As it turned out, though, things got out of hand long before Liz joined the group of people worried about Isabel and Alex's relationship.

That Saturday night, Philip informed them a young colleague of his would be coming by for dinner. And when the young Latino man walked through the door and introduced himself as Jesse Ramirez, Max's eyebrows rose into his hair and Isabel gasped and hurriedly excused herself from the room.

"It's nice to meet you, Jesse," Max said, extending his hand to the lawyer.

"You, too, Max," Jesse said politely. "Your father has told me so much about you and your sister." I hear you might be moving to Boston next year?"

Max nodded, peering towards the hallway where Isabel was standing, sagging against the wall just out of sight of the others in the living room. "Yeah, maybe. I might go to Boston University."

They continued to chat for a bit, and Max's first impression of Jesse was that he had no real personality. He was polite, but a bit bland, with nothing of interest to contribute to the conversation. Max forced himself to pay attention, however, and tried to ignore the fact that Isabel had not reentered the room.

When they finally sat down to dinner, Isabel slipped into the seat next to Max, across from Jesse, and stared resolutely at her plate. The conversation lagged for a moment as Diane passed out the food, and then Jesse started speaking again.

"So, Isabel, what are your plans for next year?"

Isabel's head snapped up, and she said, "Um… not sure yet. I applied to a few schools of design. I want to go into graphic design or something along those lines…" She trailed off and regarded Jesse cautiously, then added, "I'm thinking about New York or Boston."

"That sounds interesting," Jesse said. There was an awkward silence, then Jesse continued, "I'm originally from outside of Boston. It's a great place. You know, Boston's Little Italy has absolutely wonderful cannoli. Do you like cannoli?"

Isabel blinked. "They… they're those um… Italian pastries, right?" she asked, sounding a little flustered. "With the cream filling?" Jesse nodded, and she shrugged, "I've never had them before."

And somehow the conversation turned to pastries of all sorts. Max had to pinch himself repeatedly to stay awake. Who knew someone could talk for _so long _about pastries?

Isabel suddenly kicked him under the table.

Max stared at her, one eyebrow lifted, and she jerked her head towards Jesse. Max had clearly lost track of the time, because they had moved on to dessert and Jesse was now talking to Philip about something related to work.

"What?" Max hissed at Isabel, because he couldn't decipher her silent signals. What was she trying to tell him?

_That's him_, Isabel mouthed. _From my dream. Khivar._

Max stared at her, and then at Jesse, who met his gaze with a cool smirk that seemed so incredibly out of place on his features. There was a glimmer of a challenge in his eyes, and then it was gone and Jesse was staring at Philip again with a expressionless look on his face.

And Max knew.

He was somehow sitting at the dining room table, having dinner with his parents, his sister…

And Khivar.

* * *

She left.

She actually just got up and left.

Max sat slumped against the sofa, staring blankly at the window. Khivar, their nemesis, the man who had killed them, had connected with her in a dream. Had apparently decided to possess their father's colleague – a man who in several other timelines had been Isabel's husband – and had shown up for dinner.

They'd actually eaten a meal with Khivar.

And Isabel had decided going to see Alex was more important than sticking around to discuss this?

She'd actually just… left. Walked out the door and said she was going to a movie and she'd be back later.

Fortunately for Max, his parents had left as well, so the house was entirely empty. Which meant he didn't have to crash Michael's apartment, but could instead request that everyone come to him so they could discuss the fact that Khivar was here.

On Earth.

And apparently one of the most boring people in the world. In any world.

Seriously. An alien killer came to their dinner and spent the entire evening talking about _pastries_?

Michael and Maria arrived first, throwing open the door and barreling into the house. Max's explanation had simply been that Isabel was in trouble, and clearly Michael assumed that the trouble was still somewhere in the house, because he had one hand extended and was forcefully keeping Maria behind him to protect her.

"Maxwell. What the hell is going on?" Michael demanded when it became apparent that the house was not inhabited by enemies.

Well, not anymore.

"Oh, don't worry," Max said off-handedly. "Khivar already left."

Michael slammed the door shut. "_What_?"

"He was here. At dinner. Nearly bored me to death," Max said. He didn't mean to be so blasé about it, but he just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Khivar was here.

Khivar was here.

"Okay, back up. What do you mean? How is Khivar here?" Maria asked, her words rushed together as she crossed to Max and stood above him, hands on her hips. "And where is Isabel?"

"He possessed one of my Dad's colleagues," Max said with a snort. To Michael, he added, "And guess which one?"

Michael didn't say anything, just continued to look at Max with utter disbelief in his eyes.

"And Isabel," Max finished sarcastically, "decided going to the movies with Alex was her top priority at the moment. After having dinner with Khivar, of course."

This time Michael did find his voice. "How the hell does Isabel's former alien lover crash your house for dinner?"

"Maybe they had really good food?" Maria suggested. Max and Michael both gave her incredulous frowns, and she snapped, "What? I'm just trying to keep the tone light. You know, so you don't both explode from all the stress."

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation, and then Tess and Kyle entered, both looking apprehensive. They were followed by Jim, who shut the door firmly behind him. Kyle flopped down on a chair across from Maria and Max, and Tess and Jim moved until they were standing next to Michael.

"Max? What's wrong? What happened to Isabel?" the petite Queen questioned.

It was Michael who answered in a dry tone, "Oh, she and Max just had dinner with Khivar."

There was a complete silence as Tess' eyes widened considerably. Her gaze moved from Michael to Max, and then back to Michael. "Um… okay, _what_?"

"He's here. He possessed one of my Dad's work buddies. Jesse Ramirez."

"Remind me again what the deal is with Khivar?" Kyle cut in.

"Son of a bitch killed us," Michael spat, eyes blazing.

"In our other life, Khivar was our enemy," Max added, elaborating on Michael's short and furious explanation. "He was trying to take over my throne. Isabel fell in love with him and helped him overtake us. It was a bloodbath. We were all killed, including Isabel. Our genetic material was mixed with human DNA, and then we were sent here."

"God, nothing is ever simple with you guys, is it?" Kyle murmured, shaking his head.

Then there was another knock on the door. Jim was the nearest, and he pulled open the door and ushered Liz into the living room. She did not waste any time, but got right to the point. Walking over to Max, she questioned anxiously, "What happened?"

"Cliff notes version?" Maria responded. "Khivar decided to posses Jesse Ramirez and show up here for dinner. And yes, that is the same Jesse that married Isabel in all the timelines when Alex dies. And no, we don't know what he wants."

"Well, I doubt he's just on vacation," Michael answered. "Maxwell, we've got to do something."

"I know," Max agreed. "We need to figure out how to get Khivar out of Jesse. And then…"

"And then what?" Liz questioned.

Max sighed inwardly. He knew what she was asking, what they all wanted to know. He knew what needed to be done. They _all_ knew what needed to be done. And without Courtney around to play with his mind, Max felt more confidence in his ability to do this, to protect them all, to keep Isabel safe.

But he did still dream of Nicolas occasionally. And he knew that his emotional turmoil after what he had done was not entirely due to Courtney. He had killed a person in cold blood, even if it was an enemy, even if it was necessary, and now, with Khivar…

He knew what needed to be done. But the real question was could he bring himself to do it?

Quite suddenly, Max felt the unnatural chill he associated with flashes or premonitions, and then…

_They found her body, sprawled amongst the rocks, broken and bloodied and lifeless. And Michael turned away, shutters dropping over his eyes, and Max felt as though time had come to a screeching halt._

The vision was gone, but the fury at Khivar was not.

"Then," he said without any hesitation, "I'm going to kill him."

* * *

Sunday morning brought with it a growing sense of unease. Isabel left early, before Max had even emerged from his room, and the house was quiet enough to increase his foreboding. Every time he thought of Isabel, something clenched painfully in his chest, but he couldn't tell if it was a premonition of sorts, or if he was just worried.

Yawning, Max threw on a light sweater and stepped out into the cool morning air. He knew Isabel would be at the Crashdown, and Liz and Maria would probably be there as well. Which meant Michael would eventually show up, too.

Would Khivar show up?

Hurrying to his car, he paused long enough to consider whether or not Isabel would have told Alex the truth. It seemed unlikely, given how reticent she had been to discuss the issue over the past few days. But now they knew that it was more than just a dream, that Khivar was actually here.

On Earth.

The drive to the Crashdown was short, but it still seemed to take forever. At every stop sign, he wondered if Khivar had already shown up and gone after Isabel. At every stop light, he wondered what he would do if Khivar waited to show up when they were all there.

The diner was relatively empty. Michael and Isabel were sitting at one of the tables, talking to each other, and Maria was wiping down tables. Liz was sitting at the counter and staring aimlessly at nothing, only rousing herself when a customer indicated that they needed service.

But the brunette smiled when she saw Max enter.

He replied with a smile of his own, and if it was slightly strained, Liz did not question it.

Max crossed to his sister and best friend and pulled out one of the chairs. As he sat down, Isabel glared at him and said fiercely, "I can't believe you told everyone!"

Max gawked. "Isabel," he protested, "it was Khivar. What did you think I would do? Ignore it?"

"I can handle it, okay?" Isabel said, running her fingers back and forth across the table and refusing to meet Max's gaze. "I can handle him."

"You don't know that," Max replied firmly.

Isabel chewed her lip, a sure sign she was nervous. Max ran a hand through his hair and silently appealed to Michael for help. The taciturn hybrid General shrugged in reply.

Max expelled a short breath.

"Come on, Isabel," he said in a low tone. "We're not just going to sit back and not do something. We have to fight him."

"Maxwell's right," Michael agreed.

Max smirked slightly. "And how often do you hear Michael say _that_? If he's agreeing with me, you _know_ we have to be right."

At any other time, the comment would have made Isabel smile. But she continued to stare glumly at the table and did not reply.

After a long, tense silence, Isabel said, "I'm going to see if I can grab a glass of water from the kitchen. I'll be right back."

After she left, Michael drawled, "Well, she's clearly avoiding us."

"Really?" Max asked sarcastically. "What gave it away? I mean, besides the fact that she decided to walk into the kitchen of a restaurant to get herself a glass of water when she could have just asked Maria or Liz for it?" He began drumming his fingers on the table, then stopped instantly and clenched his hand into a fist. "This sucks."

"What?" Michael asked.

"I used to tap my fingers when I was stressed. You know, something you would do without really paying attention? Now every time I start doing, I worry that it is a sign my brain is melting. It's frustrating."

Michael scratched his eyebrow with one hand and then tilted his head to the side. "Really? An alien killer is here, probably to murder us and make Isabel his alien bride, and you're complaining because you have to find a new nervous habit?"

Max flushed slightly, but defended himself, "Hey, just because the world might end doesn't mean this isn't annoying."  
"You want to talk annoying?" Michael asked sharply. "I've been informed that I'm expected to move to New York." Rolling his eyes, he added, "Just because Maria thinks it is the most amazing city on Earth…"

Max snorted, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself. He knew perfectly well that no matter how much Michael complained about it now, he would end up moving to wherever Maria decided to live. For all their constant fighting, he loved her far too much to not give in on this one.

Max smiled fondly, remembering the time last year when he was not entirely convinced the two of them were ever going to get back together. At least Michael had managed to get over his fear of being responsible for Maria's death.

Turning, Max craned his neck and caught sight of Maria taking one customer's order on her pad. Liz was nowhere to be seen, and Max assumed that she had gone back into the kitchen for a moment. Maybe she would run into Isabel. Maybe she could talk some sense into Isabel, because the hybrid Princess certainly wasn't listening to anyone else.

But even as he thought that, Liz came hurrying out of the back room, eyes connecting instantly with his. Max was on his feet before he knew what was wrong, and she came stumbling into him, breathless.

"Max! Isabel, in the alley," Liz gasped, trying to keep her voice low.

Max didn't bother to listen to the rest of her explanation. He heard the words _Isabel_ and _alley_ and started running, Michael only a step behind him.

They crashed through the kitchen and slowed as they came to the door leading to the back alley. Holding up a hand, Max indicated for Michael to stay quiet, and then he slowly opened the door and peeked out. Staying low, they crept forward, hidden by a dumpster and a row of empty crates.

"What have you done to me?" Max heard Isabel's voice and peeked around the dumpster.

She was talking to Jesse.

Khivar.

"What do you mean?" Khivar asked.

"You've taken control," Isabel said, pulling away from him even as he held onto her arms. "You've used some kind of power to get me here."

Khivar chuckled. "I've done nothing," he said. "You're here because it is where Vilandra wants to be."

Isabel pushed at his chest and tore herself from his grip. "Vilandra is dead," she spat. "She doesn't exist."

"She does," Khivar said softly. "Within you."

"No. Vilandra betrayed my entire family. She murdered them, and I've been given a second chance. One that doesn't include you."

Max looked around, searching for some kind of weapon. Unfortunately, Isabel and Khivar were standing too close to the opening of the alley, to the relatively busy main street, for him to risk using his powers. But he couldn't let Khivar continue to talk to his sister, to try to seduce her.

Michael seemed to be thinking the same thing, and he nodded towards a piece of piping that lay a few feet away from them.

Max glanced back at Isabel and Khivar.

"Come back with me, Vilandra. We can leave whenever you want," Khivar was saying.

"How?"

Khivar grinned, a feral, triumphant look in his eyes. "It's a new mode of transit. Something we've been working on for a while. Better than a ship." He reached out towards Isabel. "Just take my hand. Come with me."

"No," Isabel said, shaking her head in denial as she backed away from him until she was pressed up against the opposite building. "Go home, Khivar. And if you really love me, don't come back."

Khivar stepped forward and caught her around the waist, pressing his lips against hers and kissing her.

And Isabel kissed him back.

"What's going on?"

All eyes spun to the teenager who had suddenly appeared behind Michael and Max on the stairs leading up to the Crashdown's kitchen. Blue eyes were fixed on Isabel with something like horror and disbelief, and Isabel pulled away from Khivar and stared back at a complete loss for words.

"Whitman," Michael groaned.

"Isabel, what are you… who is… what's going on?" Alex stammered.

"Alex, I don't… wait, it isn't what you… it isn't what you think," Isabel stammered, flustered and upset and dangerously close to tears.

And by the time Max thought to look for Khivar, the skin king was gone.

* * *

"Would somebody please tell me what is going on?" Alex asked for what had to be at least the fifth time.

Maria and Liz were still at the Crashdown, having to finish their shifts, and Jim was still at work, but Michael had gathered everyone else at his apartment. Isabel was sitting on the sofa, looking distraught and upset, and Max was alternating between wanting to hug her and wanting to demand to know what on Earth she had been thinking when she kissed Khivar back.

"The man in the alley was Khivar," Tess said, finally answering Alex's question even though she did not take her gaze away from Isabel.

"I… what? Khivar is here?" Alex looked around, and when nobody else seemed particularly surprised by that revelation, he asked, "Does everybody else know?"

"We found out last night," Tess answered softly. "Apparently, Khivar had dinner with Max and Isabel."

Alex just stared blankly at Tess, before looking to Max for confirmation. Max sighed and nodded, and then Alex slowly shook his head in disbelief.

To Isabel, he asked in a hurt voice, "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"It doesn't matter," Isabel answered. "It doesn't concern any of you. Because I've got this entirely under control. I'm going to get rid of him."

"What happened to doing things together?" Alex retorted. "I thought you said we were going to be a team now. Wasn't that the plan? Stick together and all that?"

"I don't need help," Isabel snapped. "I can take care of this myself."

"Somehow, I don't think kissing Khivar is the best way to convince him to leave," Michael said sarcastically. "Unless, of course, you really are that bad of a kisser."

Kyle snickered.

Isabel shot Michael a furious glare, but then her anger drained from her expression and tears filled her eyes. "Why is this happening to me?" she asked. Gesturing towards Alex, she continued, "I want to be with Alex. I love Alex. Not Khivar."

"I know," Max said.

"But Vilandra… she wants Khivar. She wants control. She wants to go back to Antar," Isabel whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Vilandra's gone," Michael said in an unyielding tone.

Isabel wiped away a few tears and said angrily, "No, she's not. I wish she was! I hate her, I hate what she did." The tears spilled from her eyes, and she swatted at them uselessly. "She isn't gone," Isabel said, her quiet voice shaking, her entire body trembling. "She's still inside of me. And I want her out. I don't want to be thinking about Khivar. I don't want to be dreaming about him. I…" She trailed off and lifted bloodshot eyes to Alex. "I want to be with you, Alex."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Alex pressed, arms folded over his chest. "Why was I the last to know that my girlfriend is being targeted by her alien boyfriend?"

"You know, now might not really be the time for this," Tess hissed at Alex. To Isabel, she questioned, "When did the dreams start?"

"About a week ago," Isabel replied numbly. "I… I don't know. I couldn't get them to stop. I just wanted him out of my head but I…"

"Ended up shoving your tongue down his throat instead?" Michael filled in bluntly. "You're not doing a great job of dealing with this one on your own."

"Michael is right, Isabel," Max murmured, giving her a sidelong look.

"It's not like I wanted to be having those dreams," Isabel muttered.

"You were making out with Khivar in your dreams?" Alex asked, dumbfounded. "And you didn't think to maybe mention this to me?"

"Okay, enough," Max said, raising his voice and effectively putting an end to Alex's complaints. "Now, listen, here's what we're going to do. Michael, Tess, and I are going to find Khivar and end this. Okay?"

"No!" Isabel cried frantically. "No, Max. You're _not_ going without me. What if something goes wrong and you need me there? "

"Is this some kind of closure thing?" Tess asked.

Isabel nodded and said in a choked tone, "I need to get over him. I need to conquer this. Now."

"All right," Max agreed reluctantly. "Okay. Wait until Khivar comes to you again. We'll be right behind you, out of sight. And you can take him someplace secluded, okay? Away from anyone who might see something they shouldn't. Away from Alex, Maria, and Liz."

"And then what?" Isabel asked. "We don't even know how to get him out of Jesse."

"Jesse?" Alex asked, lips pressed together, a look of resignation in his eyes. He knew that name, and he was obviously steeling himself for bad news.

"Yeah, Jesse Ramirez. The guy Isabel ends up marrying after Tess makes mush out of your brain," Michael said, giving Alex a quick look. To Isabel, he said, "It doesn't matter. We're going to kill him, Isabel. We're going to stop Khivar."

"I'm coming with you," Alex said firmly, raising his chin and daring the others to contradict his statement. "If you're going to use Isabel as bait for this alien lunatic, I'm coming with you."

Max opened his mouth to argue, having no delusions over how dangerous this would be, but it was Isabel who spoke first, her tone just as unyielding as Alex's had been. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Alex challenged. "What's wrong with me wanting to help?"

"What's wrong with it," Isabel said through clenched teeth, "is that it will get you killed. This isn't some insignificant problem, Alex. This is Khivar. And you don't have powers, you're not going to be able to contribute anything to this, okay?"

"I won't be able to contribute anything?" Alex replied, repeating her words. His voice was suddenly dull and flat, but there was an edge of bitterness that Max rarely heard before. Alex was staring hard at Isabel, apparently completely oblivious to everyone else in the room, and Isabel was glaring right back, refusing to back down.

"What do you think you'd be able to do against Khivar?" Isabel said heatedly.

"What do you think you'll be able to do?" Alex shot back. "He's got some kind of hold over you. I might not have powers, but he can't get to me that way and…"

"And what? I'm not trustworthy? Is that it?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Alex cried, frustrated. "Would you just listen to me for a minute? Just think about this, please. It's dangerous and…"

"And having you around won't make it any safer," Tess said, pushing herself in between the two to stop their quarreling. "You're a liability, Alex. If we have to protect you, it will just slow us down."

A myriad of emotions flickered in Alex's eyes, and then he said, "Right. Sure." Spinning on his heel, he strode to the door and yanked it open, pausing only long enough to say, "I guess I'll see you guys later, then. Since I'm clearly not needed here."

And he was gone, slamming the door behind him.

Isabel jumped to her feet and took a few steps towards the closed door, but then stopped and looked back at everyone else. Max watched her as she eyes roamed the room, passing over Tess, Kyle, and Michael, and finally coming to rest on him.

"I… I don't know if I can do this…" she whispered, and Max had no idea if she was talking about her relationship with Alex or their problems with Khivar.

"Isabel, listen to me," Max said firmly, resting his hands on her shoulders and gazing into her expressionless eyes. "He's after you now. But Michael, Tess, and I… we're unfinished business. He's going to kill us. Do you understand? It's him or us, Isabel."

She swallowed uneasily. "Yeah. Okay."

* * *

"I don't like this," Tess announced as she watched Isabel and Khivar walking towards the desert. She, Max, and Michael were following at a safe enough distance not to be seen, but still close enough to be able to rescue Isabel if it became necessary to intervene.

"Why not?" Max asked. "I always enjoy using my sister as bait for a madman."

Tess gave a brief, wry smile at the sardonic comment, but then her expression sobered. "The only plan we have for killing Khivar involves putting Jesse at a lot of risk."

Max wrung his hands together and tried not to think about what would happen if they failed at this. The plan was to hurt Jesse enough for Khivar to believe that they were going to kill the human. Hopefully, that would cause him to give up his hold on Jesse's body. Once Jesse was no longer being possessed, Max would heal him and Michael, Isabel, and Tess would take care of Khivar.

The plan had several flaws. And Max still wasn't entirely sure what they were going to tell Jesse. Would he remember any of this? Or would he randomly find himself in the middle of the desert with no idea how he had gotten there?

In a voice of forced bravado, he replied to Tess, "I can do this."

Tess glanced at him, then nodded. "I know."

They were now close enough to hear Isabel and Khivar talking.

"Almost show time," Michael said grimly.

"Have you made up your mind?" Khivar asked, reaching out and taking Isabel's hand.

"Yes," Isabel said. "I'm coming with you."

Khivar smiled, and even at a distance, the sight of his chilling smile sent shivers down Max's spine. "Good. Let's go home," the skin king said, and leaned in to kiss Isabel.

"Was this part of the plan?" Michael asked, watching Isabel.

"I don't think so," Max replied in growing unease and dread.

Isabel turned and looked at them, and her eyes were entirely black. Waving her hand, she incinerated the outcropping of rocks that was concealing them from view. Max exchanged a worried look with Michael and straightened, walking forward.

"Well, Zan," Khivar said triumphantly, "it's been a long time. I often wondered when our paths would cross again."

"We're not letting you take Isabel," Max snapped, but even as he said the words, he looked at Isabel and noted that there was nothing remotely recognizable in her eyes. It was Vilandra staring back at him.

"I'm not taking anyone anywhere," Khivar sneered, pulling Isabel closer to him and wrapping his arm around her waist. "She's coming with me because she wants to."

"Isabel, let go of his hand and step away from him," Tess said, pleading in her tone as she looked at Isabel and Khivar's interlocking fingers.

Isabel did not move.

"Isabel!" Michael practically shouted.

They were only a few feet away from Isabel and Khivar now, but that did little to ease Max's concern. What did it matter if he could physically rescue his sister from the other alien when he had already mentally lost her? How could he have allowed this to happen, how could he have been so careless? Why did he ever think using her as bait was a good idea.

He was supposed to protect her.

Isabel looked at him. "Leave us," she begged, "Please. Just walk away."

Khivar nodded in agreement. "Don't make me kill you again," he warned. "It would feel… redundant."

"Isabel, listen to him. He wants to kill us," Michael said. "It's him or us, Isabel. You need to get away from him."

In response, Isabel waved her hand and sent the three of them flying. Max hit the ground several feet away, his head slamming back against the rocky ground, and stars burst in front of his eyes. Groaning, he twisted and attempted to crawl to his feet.

"Come on," Isabel said, speaking to Khivar, looking only at him. It did not appear to matter to her that she had attacked the other three. Ignoring everything else, she requested, "Let's go home."

Khivar smiled and lifted a hand, using his powers to create a portal in the sky. It shimmered and shifted, the air swirling around in a mini-tornado as the thin fabric between place and time was torn to create a path through space.

And then Alex was quite suddenly barreling out of nowhere. He flung himself at Khivar, and knocked the stunned skin to the ground. "Get your hands off her," he snarled.

Though Khivar had been surprised enough to fall victim to the first attack, it took him no time at all to regain his powers, and easily sent Alex flying into the air. The human teenager crashed to the ground, but struggled forward, nearly collapsing at Isabel's feet.

"Isabel, don't," Alex whispered, his voice strained and filled with pain. He staggered upright, grabbing Isabel by the arms. "_Please_. I love you. I'm sorry I got mad before. Please, don't leave with _him_."

Isabel pushed Alex away from her and he hit the ground hard, the wind completely knocked out of him. She gave him a contemptuous look and then turned to Khivar. "If we're going to go," she said, "we have to go now."

"Isabel! _No_!" Michael cried, sounding horrified and desperate.

"Isabel!" Max echoed the cry.

For a brief moment, Khivar stared at Max. There was triumph in his gaze, and hatred, and gloating. Then he turned and moved towards the portal.

"Isabel, _please_…" Alex said hoarsely, his voice dry and cracked. "I love you."

Isabel looked at Alex…

The spun around and grabbed Khivar by the collar of his shirt. Without warning, she shoved him towards the portal. He hung in midair for a moment, suspending above them, and Isabel whispered, "I love you."

Then the black faded from her eyes and Vilandra was gone.

"But if you come back, I will kill you myself," she finished, and then Khivar was torn from Jesse's body, and the portal erupted into light before closing with a loud crack. Jesse stumbled to the ground, then keeled over completely. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he lost consciousness.

Max was immediately at Jesse's side, checking for a pulse. He found one, unsteady and faint, but definitely there. Relief flooded through his body. "We need to get him to a hospital, but he should be fine," he muttered.

Then he lifted his eyes and gazed at Isabel.

The statuesque blonde had fallen to her knees. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she stared towards the sky, towards the place where Khivar had disappeared. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, her words low and chocked, running into each other as they poured from her lips. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to let this happen…"

"Isabel," Alex said, crawling to her side and wrapping his arms around her, "it's over."

"It's not over," Isabel countered. She looked at Alex and sniffed a few times. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "Alex, I'm so sorry, I just… I can't do this."

"Do what?" Alex questioned, eyes hardening as he and everyone else realized exactly what Isabel was saying even before she had verbalized the thought.

"Us. I can't… I need… space and… I'm sorry." She pulled away from him and rose to her feet.

"Isabel… don't do this," Alex said, stumbling to a standing position and grabbing her arm. "Why? Why are you…?"

"I'm sorry," Isabel said again. She tried to wipe away a few tears, but more simply followed, filling the spaces she had wiped away. Chewing her lip, she had to force herself to meet Alex's gaze. "I loved him."

"Khivar?"

Isabel nodded. "And… and I just need… I need some time, Alex. I need to figure out how I could have been that person, how I could have allowed this to… to happen. Don't you see? I don't know how I became Vilandra, but…"

"You're not Vilandra."

"But she's still there," Isabel replied, struggling to come up with the right words. She looked at Max for a moment, then back to Alex and continued, "She's still… she's still there and I can't… I can feel her. I can feel what she wants and I… some times it is so strong I want it to, and I don't… I need to figure this out. Before I lose myself. Before I forget who I am."

"You beat her," Michael protested. "You just beat her now. You stopped Khivar."

"You did," Tess agreed. "It's over."

Isabel offered a watery smile. "But she's not gone. I beat her but… but she's still there and I don't want… it isn't over. Not really…" She stopped, shook her head. Running her fingers through her hair as she glanced at Alex, she finished quietly, "I'm sorry. I just… I need this."

Max watched her, watched as she started picking her way over the rocky ground, extending the distance between herself and her boyfriend. He watched as Alex's expression crumbled, watched as Tess hurried after Isabel, catching up with her and gently squeezing her arm. He watched as Michael lifted Jesse's unconscious body into his arms and turned questioning eyes to Max.

He hadn't expected it to end quite like this. He had no doubt that both Liz and Maria would have something to say to him about this, would want to demand that he somehow fix the broken relationship. Maybe they were right, and Isabel was making a mistake. And maybe she knew what she was doing, and she really did need the space. Max wasn't sure, but he did know she was right about one thing.

This wasn't over.

As long as Khivar was still alive, he would continue to come after them. He would not stop until he got what he wanted – Isabel by his side and the other three dead. And that meant that, no matter how much Max wanted peace and a chance for a normal life, he wasn't going to get it.

The war wasn't over, and one day, Khivar would come back.


	23. The Ninth Dimension II: Chaos

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

* * *

The Ninth Dimension II: Chaos

_Chaos is the score upon which reality is written._

_-Henry Miller_

_It was dark and damp, and the alley was heavy with tension and unease. The pixie blonde glanced over her shoulder as she quickened her pace, some sixth sense telling her that she needed to get away from here as soon as possible. Something dangerous lurked in the shadows, stalking her, and instinctively her hand reached for her cell phone, for the first number on speed dial._

_A movement to her right caused her to spin around, and then she gaped, mouth falling open at the figure that stood there, watching her with a cruel smirk._

"_Well, ain't you quite the pretty little thing?"_

_She backed up, away from the taller man, her eyes darting left and right, her mind frantically trying to come up with a solution. With the cell phone still clutched tightly in her hand, hidden in the folds of her coat, she did her best to discreetly hit the speed dial button and pray that he'd figure out where she was._

_Then her other hand moved to her purse, to the pepper spray she carried with her. A goodbye present from her mother, and it had come accompanied by a long lecture on the danger of New York boys._

"_Who are you?" she asked, her gaze traveling over his far too familiar features. "If you're a shape-shifter, you didn't do a very good job of it."_

"_I ain't no shape-shifter, sweetheart," the man replied. "But I gotta say, you do got good taste in men. Though it could be a bit better, right?" He leered at her and she glared back at him, eyes narrowing dangerously. But this only seemed to amuse the man more, and he chuckled, shaking his head._

"_You still haven't told me who you are," the girl said, her voice demanding. Despite her short stature and growing fear, she still managed to draw herself up in an effort to be intimidating. It had no effect really, because her stalker did not back away, but it made her feel a bit better._

"_Me?" he questioned, stepping closer to her. "Well… why don't you come here and find out, sweetheart?"_

_He was close enough to grab her hand, and she dropped her purse, the contents spilling out across the ground. But she clung to the bottle of pepper spray even as everything else fell, and brought it up, towards his eyes. She had a brief glimpse of his expression changing from a predatory grin to one of shock, and then she slammed her fingers down on the spray mechanism, and watched with grim satisfaction as the man snarled and jumped back, both hands flying to his eyes._

_But even without his vision, the man was a significant threat. She barely had time to pull away from him before he was already attacking her again, this time with powers against which a mere human could not defend._

Nearly 200 miles away from New York City, in the warmth and safety of his own bed at Boston University, Max woke with a start. The room was silent, eerily so, and pale moonlight flooded through the window. His heart was hammering loudly, and his breath came far too quickly. The dream was vivid and strong, and when he closed his eyes, he could see Maria's pale face.

Pushing the covers away, he staggered to his feet and reached for his phone. The movement caused the other occupant of the bed to give a small groan and open her eyes, but Max paid no attention to her. Instead, he tapped in the number he knew by heart and listened to the rings, waiting for Michael to pick up.

It was three o'clock in the morning. Would Michael even be awake? Well, it didn't matter. The sound of the phone would wake him up, and that was all that mattered.

He had to talk to Michael. Now.

After several rings, there was a pause, and then the click of the other phone being answer. A groggy, grumpy voice barked, "Maxwell! It's the middle of the night. The world had damn well better be ending for you to..."

"Maria's in trouble."

Michael stopped speaking and Liz, still half-lying in Max's bed, shot up completely, eyes widening. Max gave her an apologetic smile, knowing this wasn't how he would have wanted her to find out that something was wrong. But they didn't have time for pleasantries because he _knew_ what he had seen.

"No, she's not. She's right here, glaring at me for allowing the phone to wake her up," was Michael's slow and hesitant response.

Max started pacing. "I know, I know. But she will be. Listen, she can't go anywhere without you, okay? Not right now, not until I figure out why they're after her."

"Who? Who is after her? Maxwell, what the hell is going on?" Michael asked, his tone sharp and worried.

"The… um… the Dupes, I think you called them. Or… well, I think that's what you said the future version of me called them. Maria's going to run into yours, okay? He's following her and… just, don't let her go anywhere without you around, okay? I'm going to get Izzy and we're going to come to New York."

"Max, Max, wait. How do you even know all this?" Michael asked skeptically.

Max sighed and rubbed the back of his head, looking over at Liz. She was still watching him, hanging on to every word, desperate for news of Maria. "I dreamt about it," he said finally.

"You dreamt about it?" Michael repeated, and Max could hear the disbelief and fear warring with each other in Michael's voice. He obviously thought Max was overreacting, but he was also not at all willing to put Maria's life in danger, even if their only clue was something as vague as a dream.

Liz shifted and slid off the bed, coming to stand next to Max. He paused in his pacing and wrapped an arm around her waist, and she leaned in to him.

"You sure it wasn't just a normal dream?" Michael asked when Max did not reply to his earlier comment. "I mean… it's been two years since Khivar possessed Jesse. And we've been alien-free the whole time. Maybe… maybe it's just nerves? Maybe you're just on edge and…"

"No," Max interrupted harshly. He hadn't meant to snap, but he _knew_ he was right. He couldn't really explain it to Michael, not when he didn't understand it himself. But this wasn't just a dream, and it wasn't his nerves, and it wasn't his subconscious reacting to the fact that they had been safe and happy for two years and he was expecting the next disaster to strike.

This was real.

"Just keep Maria safe. We'll be there soon," Max said, and hung up the phone without waiting for a reply. He knew Michael would listen to him despite his own reservations. This was Maria, after all, and Michael was not going to take any chances.

"Max?" Liz murmured, tilting her head back and focusing on him with her brown eyes. "What's going on? Why is Maria in trouble?"

Max pulled away from her and walked over to the light switch. Flicking the light on, he waited a few times until his eyes adjusted to the change, and then said, "I don't know. The Dupes are after her, but I… I don't know why." He faced her, seeing the concern and fear, and then looked down, suddenly unable to meet her gaze when he knew he had nothing to offer. He couldn't reassure her, not when the twisting in the pit of his stomach was warning him that something was very, very wrong.

"I need to go back to my dorm," Liz said.

"What?" he asked, brows furrowed at her comment.

"If we're going to New York, I need to pack a bag. So I need to go back to my own dorm at Harvard. You can drop me off on the way to picking up Isabel and Alex, and then come and get me on the way to New York." Her demeanor was brisk and logical, and Max knew it was a defense mechanism. Hide behind what needed to be done, what rational steps had to be taken, and she wouldn't have to face the fact that Maria was in grave danger.

And nobody seemed to know why.

Of course, he reflected, it could very well be that they were simply evil. If he remembered correctly from what he had been told, they had sided with Khivar several times.

His lips compressed into a thin line as he thought of Khivar. It had been two years since his disastrous attempt to bring Isabel back to Antar, and the effects of it had never quite faded from the group. Isabel still worried frequently about her past self, and Max found himself often wondering what would happen when the skin King came back.

Perhaps worst of all for them, though, was the simple fact that Isabel and Alex had not gotten back together.

As Liz bustled about the room, gathering up the clothing that was strewn about the floor, Max let his mind wander to his sister and the shy human she was supposed to love. Alex had indeed gone to MIT, and Isabel had gone to the Boston School of Design, putting them both in the same city. But although they still spent time together – mostly with Max and Liz and rarely ever just the two of them – there was something different. Isabel had grown more distant, more formal. She acted that way around all of them, but it was worse when Alex was in the room.

"Okay, let's go," Liz said, hanging him the car keys.

Max nodded and led her out of the apartment down the steps that brought them to the parking lot. He lived by himself, something that was infinitely preferable to sharing a room as he had been forced to do during his freshman year at college. It wasn't just that he was worried about his secret being discovered, or that his roommate had been a chauvinistic pig who had made one too many passes at both Liz and Isabel. It was also that living in a dorm meant eating cafeteria food, and Max had decided death was preferable to being forced to live off of that garbage.

The car ride was passed in silence, and Max dropped off Liz with the promise of coming to get her again as soon as possible. From the road, he telephoned both Isabel and Alex and told them to be ready for a trip to New York. Neither questioned him, though they would no doubt be demanding answers as soon as they saw him in person.

By the time all four of them were in the car again, with packed bags and ready-made excuses for their professors if they should be forced to miss too much class, Isabel had worked herself into a state of near hysteria and even Liz was looking pale and drawn. Only Alex remained unaffected, and Max reasoned it was probably that he was just better at hiding his fear.

"Okay, you'd really better start explaining, Max," Isabel said finally, her words an order.

"I don't know what I can explain. Not really. I just… the dupes have found Maria and Michael, and they're after Maria now. I had a dream… and yes, I am positive it was more than just a dream. So… we need to stop them."

"What about Tess and Kyle?" Alex asked, leaning forward from the back seat.

Max glanced over his shoulder, giving Alex a quick look before switching lanes and merging onto the highway. In the middle of the night there was very little traffic, and he could only hope that it would cut down the amount of time it took them to get to New York.

"I don't know, I haven't spoken to them yet," Max said. "We'll call them as soon as we're in New York."

This was why Isabel had settled on the Boston School of Design, why Kyle had accepted the football scholarship to Rutgers, a New Jersey State University, why Tess opted for New York University. This was why Max and Liz had both chosen Boston school and Michael had followed Maria to New York. The distance between the two cities was less than 200 miles, and they could make the trip in four hours. And if something happened, they could come together quickly, finding strength in numbers once again.

"It'll be okay," Max muttered.

Liz nodded, but looked uneasy, and Isabel chewed her lip. Alex turned and looked out the window, watching the landscape moving past. Max stared straight ahead, pressing his foot firmly on the gas.

* * *

"You better have a really good reason for this, Max, or I might actually kill you myself," Maria snarled, her lips turning into a sickly sweet smile even as her words because positively glacial. "I don't particularly enjoy being under house arrest."

Max forced a smile and stepped into the small apartment Michael and Maria shared. It was decorated almost entirely by Maria, her belongings scattered over everything. It looked lived-in and homey, and made Max think fondly of his parents and how much he missed them.

But they were on the other side of the country, entirely unaware of the war their children were fighting.

"I just told Michael to keep you safe until we got here," Max said defensively. Glancing at the clock, he noted it was only a little after seven in the morning. "Did you have anywhere important you needed to be between the hours of three and seven?"

"That's not the point," Maria shot back, hands on her hips. "It's the principle of the thing."

"Is it?" Max asked mildly. "Well, the principle of the thing is that the Dupes are after you and I'd like you not to get killed. I'm sure Michael agrees with me on this."

"For once," Michael answered, giving Max a sour look. "Don't start thinking I'm going to make agreeing with you a habit."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Max assured him with a grin.

"Speaking of dreams…" Isabel prompted, pushing past Maria and flopping down on the sofa. "Aren't you going to explain, Max?" To Michael, she added, "By the way, nice to see you."

"Tess just called, she and Kyle should be here soon," Michael said, nodding a brief greeting to Isabel before turning his attention to Max. "Why don't you start now and we can fill them in when they get here?"

"Okay…" Max settled himself into a seat opposite Isabel and lifted his gaze to Maria. "Have you… have you had the feeling that you were being followed at all lately?"

Maria's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but both Max and Michael caught the expression, and Michael exploded, "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"It's New York," Maria said dismissively. "If I told you every time a creep tried to talk to me on the subway or look down my shirt on the bus I'd…"

"Who? Who's tried to do that?" Michael asked forcefully. "Tell me, and I'll make sure they'll never bother you again."

Maria snorted. "I'm hardly a damsel in distress," she answered, lifting her chin and daring Michael to contradict her. Max bit back a grin and Isabel hid a smile behind her hand. Even Alex chuckled softly at Maria's comment. Only Liz seemed unaffected, but her worried countenance was enough to dampen the mood and remind Max of the task at hand.

"The Dupes are following you. Rath, to be exact. I don't know what they want, but… it wasn't good," Max finished, slanting a look at Michael even as he spoke to Maria. "They know about all of us."

"So what do we do?" Liz questioned.

Max was saved from providing answers he didn't have by the arrival of Tess and Kyle. The petite hybrid scanned the room, then offered Isabel a smile. Over the past two years, she was the only one who did not appear at all disturbed by Isabel's distance or the fact that she and Alex were still apart. Perhaps that was why she and Isabel had managed to grow so close. They spoke almost every day on the phone, and Tess was now privy to far more of Isabel's life than either Michael or Max.

"Hey, Evans, you know I've got a game tomorrow, right? Coach is going to kill me if I'm not well rested," Kyle announced as he closed the door to the apartment behind him.

"Right now, your coach is probably the least of anyone's problems," Max snapped back, rolling his eyes.

"So what is the problem?" Kyle asked, unperturbed by Max's dismissal of his complaint. "And what are we going to do about it?"

What indeed?

* * *

Max watched as Tess and Kyle rested their heads against each other and whispered back and forth. Kyle was smirking, and Tess was rolling her eyes and periodically shoving him or slapping him on the arm. But her eyes glittered with amusement, and her lips kept twitching upward, as though she was trying to suppress a smile.

"I don't get why they're not together," Maria commented as she played with a strand of hair and looked at the clock on the wall. Three hours later, and they still had no idea what to do. Everyone was getting antsy, and it felt like they were simply standing around, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Max stared at her, then back at Tess and Kyle. "Wait… they're not?"

Maria blinked. "No, not for like… a year, I think. How do you not know that?"

Max shrugged a little uneasily. Even if they weren't officially together, Tess and Kyle spent most of their time hanging out. Their relationship seemed to hover somewhere between sibling and significant other, and it had never occurred to him that they might go the more sibling route.

"Isabel told me," Maria said after a moment. "I don't know much, though. We don't really talk about it, because then the conversation moves to Isabel and Alex, she just clams up." With a huff, the abrasive blonde rolled her eyes and muttered, "She's a complete idiot, you know?"

Max had thought so at one point. After Khivar's trip to Earth, after Isabel's almost-departure, he'd watched his sister slowly falling apart as she struggled to deal with what was inside of her. And at the time, he couldn't understand why she would have turned her back on someone like Alex, someone who was solid and trustworthy and caring.

But she'd picked herself up and put things back together, and even if it left her a little colder and a little less able to accept others help, he knew she was at least content.

What Max didn't immediately agree with her, Maria gave him a suspicious look and then stomped away, probably to go complain to Liz about Max's lack of involvement in the whole Isabel-and-Alex issue. Max watched her go with a faint smile and shook his head. Maria never did learn when to stay out of other people's problems.

A moment later, Kyle stepped away from Tess and walked towards the kitchen. As he left, Isabel took his seat and leaned forward, a grin on her features. "So you and Kyle…?"

"Still not back together, Izzy," Tess said, clearly knowing the question was coming. Isabel pouted, but did not press the subject. Tess lowered her voice and continued talking, and Max glanced towards the kitchen, watching Maria repeating something to Liz with a serious expression.

He groaned to himself. If either Liz or Maria tried to drag him back into the complicated mess that was his sister's love life… Over Maria's head, Liz caught his eye and gave him a tiny wink. But then she turned back to Maria, nodding emphatically to the things she was saying, and Max was left by himself again.

He was close enough to hear Isabel and Tess if he strained to listen, and after a few moments he found himself eavesdropping on the conversation.

"…just keeps bringing it up. Liz, too, but Maria's the worst."

Tess considered the comment for a moment, then said, "Well, they do just want you to be happy. And Alex, too. They're your friends, Isabel. And if that means they're insufferable and interfering… they're still your friends."

Isabel rolled her eyes. "It's just annoying. I mean, Maria keeps talking about it like Alex and I are destined to be together. Not all of us end up like Max and Liz."

Tess smirked, but nodded in agreement. After a pause, she asked, "Do you still think about him?"

Isabel shot her a furtive glance, and Max couldn't help but wonder who the him was. It clearly wasn't Alex, or Isabel wouldn't look so nervous about the question.

"Yeah," Isabel murmured. "Not that much, but sometimes… I can't help it. I loved him once."

"On a different planet, in a different lifetime," Tess countered. "None of us are the same people we were then." And Max felt his heart sink as he realized they were talking about Khivar.

"Yeah." Isabel pulled at a few strands of hair, then said, "I do miss Alex. I just… I keep thinking about the future. About all the different mistakes we made. I don't want that to happen again. You know?"

"It won't," Tess said firmly. "We won't let it."

Isabel nodded, not looking entirely convinced. The two lapsed into silence.

Kyle reentered the room and crossed to Tess. He bent down and whispered something to her, and she nodded in agreement with whatever he had said.

Isabel got up and patted Tess on the shoulder, giving her a suggestive smirk and nodding her head towards Kyle, before walking from the room. Kyle laughed, but Tess just narrowed her eyes at Isabel's retreating back.

"Hey, Max," Tess said, abruptly turning to Max, "Kyle and I are going to go to the grocery store. We can't all live off of the food here, no matter how many bottles of Snapple Michael has."

Max hesitated, then said, "Alright, but I'm coming with you." Tess looked like she wanted to protest, and Max said pointedly, "Two aliens is better than one."

Tess reluctantly conceded the point. "Fine. Go ahead."

"I'll come, too," Maria said, reentering the room with Liz in tow.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Michael protested immediately, but Maria waved him off.

"I'm going crazy staying inside," she said. "I'm going with them."

"I think I'll come as well," Liz said softly.

"Well, fine… if everyone's going…" Michael grumbled.

And fifteen minutes later, he found himself trailing Michael, Maria, Liz, Tess and Kyle as they walked the three blocks to the nearest convenience store. His eyes moved constantly, looking for anyone that could be dangerous, that could pose a threat. As he kept up his surveillance, his mind started running over everything they knew, everything that could happen. How was he supposed to lead them? How was he supposed to protect his friends and family when he didn't even know what they were up against?

Goosebumps formed on his arms, and he shivered, turning in a circle. Something was about to happen, something important. And he had no idea what it was.

"Oh, sorry!"

He snapped his gaze to Tess at the sound of her voice, and saw that she had just collided into a man who was leaving the store. He appeared to be a couple years older than the two hybrids and Kyle, and had an easy smile and friendly manner. He quickly reached out and caught Tess before she could fallen, steadying her.

Tess stepped away from him with a suddenly shy smile.

"Oh, that was my fault," the man said. "I'm so sorry, really. I didn't mean… I can be a real klutz sometimes."

"It's alright," Tess replied, and Max was stunned to see that her entire face was suddenly flushed in a light pink. Even more surprising, he realized that Kyle was standing with his hands on his hips, positively glaring at the newcomer.

"I'm Nick, but the way," the man said, extending a hand.

Tess shook his hand and answered, "I'm Tess."

And quite suddenly, Max had a memory of a conversation with Liz from several years ago, when she was explaining the visit from his future self and all the things that had happened in the various timelines…

"_And then what happened?" Max pressed, unable to believe what Liz was saying, but equally unable to believe that she would lie to him about something like this._

"_You mean when we found Tess? Um… you… I mean, Future Max… said that everyone was really surprised. We didn't know Tess had been possessed at that point, we thought she had killed Alex of her own volition. And… she had your son, and she was with this other guy. Um… Nick, I think was his name."_

"_Nick? And she wasn't into Destiny and all that?"_

"_Nope," Liz confirmed with a smile. "Apparently, she was in love with Nick. And happy. Well, until the world ended."_

Max stared at Tess, at her suspiciously bright eyes and then way she was leaning forward as she talked, laughing at something Nick had said. Then he stared at Kyle, the human's furious gaze and compressed lips, at the way he was clenching his hands into fists, knuckles turning white with the pressure…

Well. This was going to be interesting.

As Tess continued to flirt with Nick and Kyle continued to silently seethe, Max looked around for everyone else. Michael and Liz had already entered the store, and Maria was watching Kyle and Tess with as much interest as Max had been.

"Is it just me," Maria murmured in a low voice, "or did everything just get more complicated?"

Max nodded, then walked inside the store.

It was about five minutes later when he realized that Maria hadn't followed him.

Hurrying back outside, he found Nick gone, and Tess and Kyle scanning a _People_ magazine. Kyle still looked sour, and Tess was apparently completely oblivious to this. She was talking with more animation than Max had seen in a very long time, and Kyle clearly was not happy about this change.

"Hey," Max interrupted them, "where's Maria?"

Tess raised an eyebrow. "She's not with you?" she asked, looking around. Max wordlessly shook his head, fear lumping in his throat and making it difficult to swallow.

And then Michael came bursting out of the store and grabbed Max's arms. "Where did it happen?"

"What?"

"Where did Maria get attacked?" he repeated, holding up his cell phone. It was registering an incoming call from Maria, and Max could faintly hear the sounds of her arguing with Rath…

It was happening. He'd tried to stop it, tried to prevent everything and he'd failed. It was happening right now…

"An alley," he choked out, numb with horror. "It was in an alley."

* * *

They heard the sound of Maria's cry before they saw her, and Michael did not hesitate. He took off at a sprint, his longer legs covering the ground much faster than anyone else. But panic made them all move at a speed greater than Max would have expected, and he was only moments behind Michael as he turned the corner and rushed into the alley.

Maria was crouched on the ground. A bottle of pepper spray lay a few feet from here, the nozzle crushed in such a way to make it entirely useless. Michael's dupe, Rath, stood above her, his face twisted in pain and fury and triumph. They both looked up as Michael and Max came crashing into the alley, and then Michael flung out his hand and sent Rath sprawling.

Max glanced behind him. "Tess!" he yelled, and the blonde appeared at his side immediately. "Hide us," he ordered grimly, and she nodded, backing up against the alley and sinking to her knees and closing her eyes.

A family walked past the alley, a husband and wife holding hands as their daughter ran ahead, laughing. The wife turned and looked into the alley, and apparently saw nothing.

Tess' mind-warp was working.

Rath had risen to his feet and launched an attack on Michael. Max quickly conjured a force-field, placing the shield between Michael and the look-alike alien. Rath snarled, not expecting that, and then Lonnie materialized from the alley's shadows, standing at Rath's side.

"Idiot," she snarled at him. "You were _supposed_ to stay hidden."

Maria climbed to her feet, looking wary, and Michael quickly pulled her to him, using his body as protection. She sagged, exhaustion showing plainly in her eyes, and it was then that Max noticed the bruises on her face and the way she favored one arm slightly.

Kyle and Liz had reached the alley. Liz moved closer to Maria and Max, but Kyle hung back, next to Tess. His eyes were focused on Rath and Lonnie, and he seemed mildly surprised. But his body was tense and coiled, ready for anything, and Max felt grim satisfaction when he realized that Kyle was prepared to keep Tess safe at all costs.

At least that meant Tess would be able to hold the mind-warp without fear of being attacked. They couldn't let anyone see them, couldn't risk exposure…

"What are you doing here?" Michael asked, glaring at Rath through the green flickering light of Max's shield.

"It's New York," Rath snapped. "We _live_ here."

There was a rush of cold, and a prickling sensation on Max's neck. Nicolas was involved in this, Nicolas had led them to the others. Nicolas had arranged a deal with them – with Lonnie. To deliver the real Royal Four and the Granolith to Khivar, and then she could go home also.

But no… he pushed that thought away. Nicolas was dead. Nicolas had not contacted the Dupes. Nicolas was not behind him. Whatever Max was thinking, it had happened in a different timeline.

But then… who was behind this?

He didn't have time to think anymore, though, because Lonnie flicked her wrist and something slammed into his shield. He stumbled back, surprised at the onslaught, and only barely able to keep the shield up. Again, Lonnie attacked, and the shield wavered. The third attack decimated it completely and flung Max backward. He hit the ground and rolled over, and Liz rushed to his side.

He heard the sounds of fighting, an explosion, followed by someone crying out a warning and something heavy hitting the ground. As he struggled back to his feet, Liz helping, he saw Rath, battered and bleeding, on his hands and knees, while Michael, with a look of pure loathing, exchanged blows with Lonnie.

Lonnie hit Michael hard, the heel of her hand striking his throat. He dropped to the ground, gasping for breath as his windpipe was momentarily closed by the intensity of her blow. But as she moved to kick him, he still had enough presence of mind to block her and grab her foot, pulling her down with him.

Max pointed out a nearby trashcan, and it shattered, shards of plastic flying at Lonnie, making her roll away from Rath.

Lonnie sneered at him and lifted a hand. The air was suddenly heavy and hot, and filled with dust and pebbles and broken glass and everything else that had once littered the ground of the alley. The pebbles pelted his skin and he felt something prick along his arm. It was more of a nuisance than anything painful, but it kept him from being able to see, being able to fight back. He swatted at it, but everything seemed to be closing in on him, and the ground beneath him shook.

Then something hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him, and he momentarily closed his eyes.

When he opened them, the air was clear again. Michael was holding Maria tightly and Kyle and Liz were both standing off to the side, their gazes sweeping over the alley. But Rath and Lonnie were gone, having clearly used the distraction to disappear.

"It's over, Tess," he said loudly.

"Oh, thank God," Tess muttered opening her eyes wearily. He looked at her, and she forced a tense smile, but the lines in her face showed just how exhausted and drained she felt. "I don't know how much longer I could have held that," she murmured, and Kyle helped her to her feet.

"They're gone," Maria said blankly, looking around. "They just… left."

"What were you even doing here?" Michael asked crossly. He drew back from her, eyes narrowed, chin jutted forward in such a way that Max knew he was not going to back down from this argument, no matter how much it annoyed Maria to have to justify her actions.

Well, he had a point… what _was_ she doing here?

"Uh, guys… maybe this is a conversation we should have back at the apartment?" Liz suggested, running a hand through her hair and looking at Max for agreement. "You know… in case they come back. I'd like to not still be here when that happens."

"Liz is right," Max agreed. "Come on, let's go back. We can talk about this later."

As they made their way out of the alley, Liz commented dryly, "We still need to buy those groceries."

* * *

Michael was pacing.

He moved back and forth across the floor like a caged animal, ready to attack at any moment. Max could not blame him for his frustration and anger, but the pacing was wearing on his nerves and he could hardly think straight. None of what had happened made any sense.

"Why were you in the alley?" Michael asked finally, his words sharp and angry.

Maria looked at him and answered calmly, "I wanted to get pastries for everyone and there's a really good bakery close by. I just took the shortcut through the alley to make it go faster." To Max, she said in an accusatory voice, "You didn't tell me the attack happened in an alley."

"I didn't think you would actually go running off on your own, given what I had seen," Max shot back defensively.

"You had a dream, and you were very vague on the details," Maria said pointedly. "I'm not going to spend the rest of my life cooped up in here."

"I'm not asking for the rest of your life, Maria. Just until we figure this out," Max answered, his frustration melting. He knew she had a point. He was asking them all to turn their lives upside down based on a dream he'd had, and he was completely unable to give them any details and explanations that might make things clearer. He needed more than that.

He needed answers.

"Why is Rath following her? And where were Zan and Ava?" Isabel asked, cutting into the conversation.

Max answered the second question first. "Zan is probably dead. He dies before we meet the other three, so nothing we've done differently should affect that. He's still dead. As for Ava… maybe she left them."

"Or maybe she spoke up one too many times and they killed her, too," Liz said bitterly.

Max inclined his head. He couldn't really argue with that.

"But that still doesn't explain why they're following Maria. Or how they even know about us," Isabel protested. "It was Nicolas who contacted them in the other timelines. It was Nicolas who told them about us and convinced them to try to kill Max. But Nicolas is dead now, so…"

"The skins are still out there," Tess said grimly. "Khivar must have replaced Nicolas. He needs a second in command, right?"

"That would make sense," Liz agreed thoughtfully. "He sent Nicolas to Earth to kill you, and when you destroyed Nicolas and all the skins, he focused instead on getting Vilandra. When that didn't work, he went back to the original idea of destroying you, and had someone contact Rath and Lonnie."

"Or he contacted them himself," Kyle suggested. "I mean… Rath and Lonnie want to go home, right? So they would eagerly jump at the chance to make a deal with him. Lonnie especially."

"So what do we do?" Alex questioned.

Max sighed heavily. "I think there's only one thing we really can do," he answered. "Rath and Lonnie want to kill us. I say we kill them first."

Liz looked a little queasy at the thought and Isabel flinched. Maria and Alex also both looked uncomfortable, and Kyle shifted his weight from foot to foot and glanced between Max and Tess, who was twisting her hands anxiously. It was clear that nobody was thrilled by that idea. They had survived the debacle with Khivar without having to kill, and some part of Max wanted to believe that the rest of the struggle could be as bloodless.

But it wasn't that simple. Not now. Not anymore.

It was Michael who, staring hard at Maria with an unreadable expression, voiced the unpleasant truth. "It's a war," he said bluntly. "And I'm not willing to lose."

"We should have some advantage, right?" Liz said at last as everyone else struggled to accept Michael's words. "I mean… we know the future. Well, a lot of it, anyway. Shouldn't we be able to… I don't know, predict things? Change them somehow?"

"We can't change what anyone else does," Alex said, his eyes on Isabel. "We can only change how we react."

"Liz, Kyle I know you guys don't usually use your powers, but you have them…" Max started, and Kyle blanched. The football jock had always been reluctant to use the gifts that had started developing after Max had healed him. He'd learned control, at least enough to avoid accidentally blowing up something when he got angry. But he had never used them in a fight, and it was obvious he did not want to do so now.

But he nodded slowly. "Okay," he muttered. "If it keeps us all safe."

Liz chewed her lip and looked at Max, but nodded as well. Max knew it was different for her. Kyle didn't want to do this because he was still afraid that being an alien meant giving up his humanity, somehow lessoning his ties to his father and the life he had once known. Max knew that fear. Max had felt that fear for ten years as he tried so desperately to fit in with everyone else in Roswell.

For Liz, it was not a fear of losing her humanity. It was a memory of the pain that had come as part of her transformation. They had done everything they could to help her, but her powers kept exploding without her control, causing books to burst into flames, melting telephones, and shattering windows, lamps, and dishes. In the end, she'd learned to keep it under control, but only by means of not using it. If she used it now, if she opened the box that had been slammed shut two years ago…

Who knew what would happen?

Max watched her expression as the decision was made, as she said slowly, "Only if I absolutely have to."

* * *

In the end, they weren't given a choice about how to proceed. Instead of planning their own surprise attack on Rath and Lonnie, they were the ones caught unawares.

The door was flung inwards, torn from its hinges and tossed onto the floor. Lonnie and Rath entered the room, followed by three other people that Max did not recognize but somehow knew immediately were skins.

_Well_, he thought dryly, t_hat answers the question of if they're working with Khivar_.

The thought fizzled from his mind as Lonnie attacked him, her blast of energy catching him squarely in the chest and sending him flying backwards. He toppled over to the sofa and crashed to the floor, pain spreading through his chest.

"Max!" he heard Isabel's high-pitched scream, and then callous laughter. Something shattered, and there was another cry, this time of pain.

He pulled himself back to his feet, trying to ignore the fact that darkness was creeping in on the edges of his vision. The front wall of the apartment was charred and burnt, and most of the furniture lay scattered at odd angles on the floor. Michael and Isabel were both struggling with skins of their own, and Kyle was using his considerable muscle and bulk to repeatedly slam a third alien against the wall. Rath had grabbed hold of Maria, and Liz was rushing towards her friend with a baseball bat in one hand. Alex was dodging Lonnie's attack, but not very successfully, and his shirt was already spotted with patches of blood.

Tess was half-hidden in the dark of the kitchen's shadows, her eyes closed, her breathing labored. Max looked back at the front of the apartment and knew she was trying to keep everything hidden. She'd worked on this, on being able to protect them. Max had told her it was the most important thing she could do, practicing blocking the vision of anyone who passed by while they were fighting. Her powers had grown exponentially over the past two years, but this fight was spiraling into uncontrollable chaos, and he was not entirely sure she could pull it off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something moving towards him, and he instinctively ducked. The clock above him exploded, shards spraying in every direction. Retaliating with an attack of his own, Max sent a bolt of electricity towards Rath. The Dupe jumped aside, releasing Maria as he did so. Liz grabbed Maria and pulled her away from Rath, still swinging the baseball bat in front of her.

Max didn't hesitate. He raced forward and punched Rath in the face. The Dupe was not expecting a physical attack, and did not block it. Max felt Rath's teeth loosen a little at the force of the blow, and felt both horror and satisfaction for the damage he could inflict.

A cry from Isabel caused him to turn around sharply and watch in numb horror as she was knocked into an overturned chair. She fell to the ground, her head slamming against one of the legs of the chair as she collapsed. She groaned and shifted a little, but was too stunned to get up.

Max felt a fury that turned his vision red and caused him to completely forget the pain in his chest. Extending both hands, he flung a rush of power from his palms. The skin did not stand a chance. He was destroyed almost immediately, his husk cracking and crumbling, turning into nothing more than a pile of dust on the floor.

Max was vaguely aware of the fact that nobody had come to investigate the noise and commotion yet. Tess' mind-warp was still working.

Maria had taken Liz's baseball bat and used it to crack the husk of another skin. There was only the one remaining skin and Rath and Lonnie. But Isabel was almost unconscious, Kyle was bleeding heavily from a gash on his chest, and Alex was bruised and barely able to breathe.

Then Lonnie turned away from Alex and backhanded an unprepared Liz, who went down hard. With a smirk of triumph, she stood above Liz, electricity crackling from her fingertips, ready to kill.

And Maria reacted, throwing herself towards Liz.

At the exact moment that Maria moved forward, Max knew what was going to happen. He remembered it, because it had happened in every other timeline. It had been different enemies – the skins, the FBI, rebel aliens – but it had always ended the same.

Liz was in danger.

Maria was going to save her.

Maria was going to die.

Max locked gazes with Liz, and knew she had just figured out the same thing.

_We can't change what anyone else does_, Alex had said. _We can only change how we react_.

Liz flung out her arm, forcing her rarely used gifts to obey her silent command. And Maria was tossed away from her, thrown like a ragdoll across the room.

At the same moment, Lonnie's electricity jumped through the air towards Liz. The brunette rolled to the side, causing the electricity to just barely miss her chest. It hit her shoulder, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she lost consciousness, trapped in the pain of the attack.

"_Liz_!"

Michael and Max attacked at the same time, and after a burst of white light, Lonnie's lifeless body fell to the floor beside Liz. At the same time, Kyle pressed his hand against Rath's chest and his skin glowed an eerie red. Rath screamed, his face twisting with agony, but Kyle did not waver in what he was doing. Then Rath's eyes closed for the final time, and his dead body slumped forward, and Kyle, drained of the last of his strength, lost consciousness.

Maria groaned and rubbed the back of her head as she looked up. The baseball lay discarded at her feet, and she grabbed it, swinging it with all her might at the last remaining skin. His husk snapped and he disintegrated. Then Maria dropped the bat and ran to Liz, her face streaked with tears. Max joined her, falling to his knees beside Liz. His chest hurt, the sting and ache of the battle coming back in full force now that it was over.

"Lizzie," Maria whispered, horrified.

"Max?" Tess' voice, weak and exhausted, startled him from his numb panic.. "Is it over?"

He looked at her blankly as she took a few steps into the room and then slid down the wall, unable to stand on her wobbling legs. "You held the mind-warp," he said flatly, unable to muster the strength even to be surprised.

She nodded.

"Max, you heal," Michael ordered suddenly, "and I'll repair the front of the apartment before anyone notices."

Max didn't even bother answering. Instead, he reached over to Liz and took her hand. "Liz? Come on, Liz, open your eyes. I need you to look at me. Come on, please… do this for me."

There was no reply. He could feel Liz's pulse, slow and uneven, but definitely there. Her breathing was labored, he could hear her struggle with every inhalation. But she did not lift her eyelids, did not respond to his voice in anyway.

"Liz, please… Liz, don't do this… don't leave me… I love you. Come on… just look at me, Liz. I just need you to look at me…"

And ever so slowly, Liz's eyes flickered open.


	24. The Tenth Dimension II: Resonance

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: So, less action in this chapter. It mostly focuses on what happens when people already know a bit too much about all the different things that can happen, and all the things that will happen… Knowledge of the future – or futures in different timelines – can be a discomforting thing.

Also, sorry for the incredibly long delay. The good news is that I've drafted the remaining chapters, and just need to edit them, so updates should be a lot quicker now.

* * *

The Tenth Dimension II: Resonance

_A work will only have deep resonance if the kind of darkness I can generate is something that is resident in me already._

– _Anish Kapoor_

In the few months that followed the attack, nothing went back to normal. Max hadn't really expected it to, but it didn't change the fact that he missed the quiet and the calm of the past two years. Some part of him had actually been foolish enough to believe that they could have normal, but he knew better now.

Khivar wouldn't let them go. That much was clear.

Lis slid into the seat across from him in the bustling coffee shop, her fingers wrapped around a vanilla latte. She gave him a tentative smile, one that did not reach her eyes. She hadn't agreed with the decision to leave New York, and Max hadn't really been comfortable with it either. But they had little other choice. Completely abandoning their lives just wasn't an option.

"I spoke to Kyle," Liz said quietly, shaking her head as she took a sip of the latte.

"Tess still enamored by Nick?" Max asked wearily, almost not wanting to hear the answer. Though he often didn't particularly care about the day-to-day drama of Kyle's life, he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the football jock. After all, if Liz had started dating someone else…

Well, he knew exactly how painful that would be for him.

Liz nodded mutely, then heaved a sigh. "And I can't even be mad at her for it. We know she loves Nick, or at least did in another timeline. It's not like Isabel, throwing away a perfectly good thing for no reason at all…"

Max grimaced, not wanting to talk about Alex and Isabel. While it was mostly Maria who was furious at his lack of interest in that relationship, Liz had made her displeasure clear as well. As far as she was concerned, Alex and Isabel were meant to be together, and this separation was just causing people she cared about more pain.

He almost didn't want to tell Liz the bit of news he'd heard earlier that day.

But she was looking at him with a piercing stare, as though she sensed something was wrong, and he blurted out, "I talked to my Dad this morning. Jesse Ramirez took a job at a law firm in Boston. He's moving out here."

Liz's eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh?" She looked down at the table, collecting her thoughts, but there was little she could say. In another timeline, Isabel had loved Jesse. So who could say that this wouldn't happen now as well, that the two wouldn't cross paths and…

He blinked several times and pushed the thoughts away. It wasn't his job to meddle in his sister's love life unless it was somehow putting them all in danger.

"What will happen, will happen," he murmured. Liz stiffened, but nodded reluctantly, and shifted her gaze to the coffee shop glancing around. Not quite able to keep the frustration from her features.

"Any news from Michael?" she asked finally.

He knew what she was really asking. Had they figured out yet why the skins and Rath and Lonnie had been after Maria? What they had wanted with her?

He shook his head. "No. Nothing yet."

Liz sighed. "I don't like this, Max. I don't like not knowing."

It was an understatement to the extreme, and Max almost laughed at the absurdity of it. But instead he simply nodded wearily and tried not to worry too much. Rath and Lonnie were dead, as were the skins who had attacked, leaving no recourse for the hybrids to use to learn the truth. Whatever reason they had for targeting Maria, it seemed it would stay hidden for a while.

He looked past Liz, towards the window. It was raining, droplets of water splashing against the glass and sliding towards the sidewalk, obscuring his view of the outside world. He watched the rain, mesmerized by it, by the patterns drawn on the glass…

And, almost unwillingly, his mind traveled back in time, to the fight, to the few moments when he thought he'd lost Liz for good.

_"Liz? Come on, Liz, open your eyes. I need you to look at me. Come on, please… do this for me. Liz, please… Liz, don't do this… don't leave me… I love you. Come on… just look at me, Liz. I just need you to look at me…"_

_And ever so slowly, Liz's eyes flickered open._

_It was all it took, and the connection formed between them, heat rushing along his arm and into her chest as he was thrown into her mind. Flashes, memories, spilled out everywhere, and he was only dimly aware of what was happening. He kept staring at Liz's brown eyes, waiting…_

_She gasped, body arching as her back lifted off the floor. He pulled his hand away as green sparks raced through her skin, and she rolled onto her side, trembling._

"_Lizzie?"_

_Brown eyes moved towards Maria, and Liz forced a smile. It looked pained and drawn, but Max didn't care. Liz was alive, and nothing else mattered. Whatever remaining pain was there, it could be healed. Aches and bruises – and silver handprints – would all fade with time._

Except that they hadn't faded, not entirely. In the past three months, Liz had been reticent, removed. It hadn't been anything that anyone else had picked up on, but Max knew Liz too well to think that her sudden change in behavior was something to be ignored.

Still, every time he tried to ask her about it, she'd wave off his concern and insist it was nothing. A thousand different excuses fell from her lips. She was tired, or stressed, or worn-out, or busy, or distracted. Everything except the truth.

He'd mentioned it to Isabel, who had waved it off as Liz just reacting to almost dying. He'd mentioned it to Alex, who'd seemed more concerned, but hadn't wanted to invade Liz's privacy if this was not something she wanted to talk about. And he'd mentioned it to Maria, who had promptly insisted that Liz tell her everything, and that had only ended up making Liz more defensive.

"Hey, Max?" Liz's voice pulled Max from his thoughts. He looked at her, smiling, and she raised an eyebrow. "You zoned out for a moment. Where did you go?"

"Just thinking about New York," he answered honestly. She nodded, and on a whim, he pressed, "You know, if something's wrong…"

"Not this again," Liz said, throwing her hands in the air. "Max, I'm telling you, it's all your imagination. Nothing's wrong, nothing's ever been wrong. I'm _fine_."

He nodded reluctantly and looked away, but he knew she was lying. The only thing he couldn't figure out was _why_. After everything that had happened – Courtney and Nicolas, Khivar and Jesse, Rath and Lonnie and New York… hadn't they learned that lies only served to hurt them? Hadn't they learned that secrets would only tear them farther apart?

Hadn't they learned anything?

* * *

"What were you _thinking_?"

It was supposed to be a fun weekend. Maria and Michael had decided to visit from New York – or, rather, Michael had insisted and Maria had reluctantly dragged herself the 200 miles that separated the two cities – and the two of them were supposed to spend a relaxing evening with Max and Liz.

Well, as relaxing as anything could ever get with Michael still obsessively trying to figure out why Maria had been targeted and Liz hovering around her best friend worriedly, as though expecting another attack.

But even with those two distractions, Max had still not expected the last minute phone call from Isabel, asking if she could come over… and bring Jesse.

At the time, Max had been too stunned to say no, and it was a decision he was regretting. Jesse was sitting awkwardly at the kitchen table, trying not to react to the glares he was receiving from Maria and the look of suspicion and mild distaste from Michael. Liz's expression was blank and uninterested, although she hadn't hid her displeasure from Isabel.

Which was why Isabel and Max were standing in the kitchen, speaking in hushed whispers as Max kept a firm gaze on his friends, silently hoping an argument would not break out any time soon. It wasn't like Jesse even knew why everyone here disliked him so much. Or was in any way responsible for what had happened.

"Look, Dad gave him our phone numbers when he moved out here and said to look us up, we could help him get settled in and used to life in Boston," Isabel said quietly, her tone unapologetic. "So he called me. What was I supposed to do, hang up on him?"

"How about _not_ invite him over here?"

"So you would have preferred that I hang out with him alone?" Isabel shot back sarcastically, knowing full well how her brother would respond.

Max groaned inwardly, caught. After all, Isabel was right; he much preferred having Jesse here than letting the man go out with his sister alone. Not that he didn't trust Isabel, and not that he really expected Khivar to take control of Jesse's body again, but still… better safe than sorry.

He looked back at the others again. Liz was apparently trying to start some sort of civil conversation, but Maria and Michael weren't particularly helping.

"Look, Max, whatever he was in the future doesn't really matter, and neither does his possession by Khivar in the past," Isabel said softly. "Right now, in _this_ present, he's an ex-colleague and friend of Dad's. And yeah, I know we're half-alien and all, but we're also half-human and Dad is still our Dad. We have to be nice to Jesse, at least until he makes his own friends here. It's what Dad wants us to do. Okay?"

Max let out a slow breath, wondering if he was going to regret this. "Yeah, okay," he said reluctantly. "But if he even looks at you cross-eyed…"

"Don't go all caveman on me, Max," Isabel shot back. "I can take care of myself. It is the 21st century, after all."

Max raised an eyebrow. "You sounded an awful lot like Maria just then," he quipped.

Isabel made a face of mock outrage, and the tension between the two siblings eased.

Still, while the meal passed by pleasantly enough, with Max giving Michael and Maria a few stern glares until they stopped insulting Jesse at every opportunity, it was clear that no one besides Isabel seemed at all pleased with the extra person present. But eventually the conversation turned to reminiscing about Roswell, and even Jesse had a few good stories to add.

It made Max a little sad to hear the way Jesse talked about all the normal things he had done in that dusty little town. He'd never really gotten caught up in the alien hype, although he had been to the UFO Center and listened to plenty of the locals go on about the supposed crash site somewhere out in the woods. But more than that, he had simply met with eccentric people and gone on a few hikes and enjoyed the closeness of the town.

By the time the young lawyer had finished his last story about moving houses and having all his new neighbors show up on his doorstep with every kind of welcoming gift possible – including some old hangers decorated with yarn from the five-year-old girl who lived across the street and developed an immediate crush on him – Max found himself completely unable to ignore the feelings of nostalgia.

He'd had that life, too, for the first ten years living in that town. Then he'd healed Liz, and everything had changed.

At the end of the evening, Jesse rose to his feet and thanked Max and Liz for a wonderful meal, then excused himself. Even Maria managed to politely wish him a good evening, and he left the apartment, apparently no wiser to the fact that his presence had been so stressful on all of them.

As soon as the door closed behind Jesse, Maria whirled around to face Isabel, hands on her hips. "So, let me guess. You're going to ditch Alex and run off with Mr. Boring over there?" she asked, jerking her hand towards the door Jesse had departed through moments earlier.

Michael snorted in amusement.

"It's hardly _ditching_ Alex when we're not together," Isabel defended herself, flushing at the accusation. "And I was just trying to be nice to a friend of my father's. So get over it, because it isn't any of your business."

"Just a favor for your father?" Maria echoed disbelievingly. "You actually think I'm going to believe that?"

"Believe what you want," Isabel answered calmly, though her eyes flashed with an irate anger that Max recognized as being one of the few warning signs that Isabel's temper was about to explode.

"Look, guys," he tried to intervene, sending a pleading look to Liz, asking for her support, "I really think…"

"Stay out of this, Max," Maria hissed.

"Maria, come on," Liz interrupted, moving to her friend's side. "It was just dinner, and it wasn't even a date. You're blowing this out of proportion."

"It wouldn't matter if it was a date," Isabel interjected, not willing to leave things the way they were. Max almost wished she wouldn't intervene, would just let Liz work it out. But he knew his sister to well, and she didn't like it when other people spoke for her.

"How can you say that?" Maria asked sharply.

"Because it's none of your damn business who I date," Isabel replied through clenched teeth. "I'm going to end up with whoever I want to be with, whoever I love, and if you cared at all about my happiness, you'd be okay with that. Actually, you'd even _support_ it. And you sure as hell wouldn't be demanding that I live my life according to your expectations. For the love of God, get over yourself. The world doesn't revolve around what _you_ want."

"You can't seriously believe that I would stand by while you hurt my friend," Maria retorted, eyes narrowing.

"Maria, please," Liz said again, "let's just take a deep breath and calm down…"

"No," Maria and Isabel both said at the exact same time.

"This isn't helping!" Max said. He noted with detached interest that Michael apparently had enough common sense to stay out of this argument. Perhaps he should have followed his best friend's example.

At least it would have prevented having two sets of glaring eyes focused abruptly on him.

"Alex is my best friend," Maria said, looking back at Isabel, "and he _loves_ you. How can you ignore that?"

"Because I don't know if I love him," Isabel answered. "I don't know if I love Jesse. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but I do know that it isn't fair to me – or to either of them – for me to jump into something just because in some other future that is what I did. This isn't fate or predestination or destiny, Maria. I get to choose what I want, not what someone else tells me I'm _supposed_ to want. It doesn't matter if it happened before. Things can change."

Liz turned and walked out of the room.

Maria and Isabel were too incensed with each other to notice, so Max found himself hurrying after Liz on his own, leaving Michael alone with the two bickering girls. He didn't envy Michael that, and he had no doubt that hybrid General was going to be less than pleased with him for leaving.

He found Liz sitting on the edge of his bed, swinging her feet over the side. He closed the door firmly as he entered the room, blocking out the sounds of the argument.

"What's wrong?"

She looked up at him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "Nothing," she murmured.

He let out a long breath. "I don't believe that." Crossing to her side, he sat down on the bed, hands in his lap. "Liz, I love you. I always have, even if I haven't been good at showing it. And I haven't always been honest with you, but I'm trying, I really am. So, _please_, don't lie to me now. What's wrong?"

She gave a bitter laugh. "What's wrong?" she echoed, and he heard something in her voice, a hardness that he didn't like it. That seemed so out of character with _his_ Liz. "I'm not dead, Max. That's what's wrong."

He blinked a couple times, trying to follow her logic even as something cold and icy ran through his veins. "What do you mean?"

She pushed away from him, rose to her feet and started pacing. "All the other timelines, Max, Maria dies to save me. But did she really need to? I didn't die in this one. I'm still alive and what if… what if I always could have survived? What if she kept dying over and over… for _nothing_?"

She was looking at him, eyes desperately searching for some kind of answer, but he wasn't sure what he could offer. He didn't know what she wanted to hear, and that scared him. He couldn't imagine what Liz was feeling right now, what she had been feeling for the past few years. If it had been him… if Michael had continually died to protect him, he had no idea how he would cope with that knowledge. But then to learn that it was all pointless, that it all could have been prevented…?

Was there anything he could say to Liz that would make this less of a nightmare for her? Anything that could make it not hurt this much?

Fortunately, he was spared from having to come up with something to say by the sound of Maria's voice.

"Does it matter?"

Both Max and Liz turned, surprised, and found Maria standing in the doorway to the bedroom, Isabel and Michael hovering behind her.

"Of course it matters!" Liz snapped. "You _died_, Maria. You _left_ all of us and… and for what? To protect me? I apparently didn't need protection. I didn't need to be saved and you didn't need to die, but you _did_. Over and over…"

"And again," Maria said, "does it matter? What happened in those timelines… well, it happened. We can't change that. But we're not _in_ those timelines. We've got this new one, and it seems pretty okay so far. Right?" Liz nodded reluctantly, and Maria pressed, "So… does it matter? Does any of what _could_ have happened matter now, since it _didn't_ happen?"

"I just… I don't like the idea of you dying, Maria, but I certainly don't like the idea of you dying for me when there was really no reason for you to do that."

"I don't want to die, either. And I don't want you to get hurt," Maria murmured. "You're my best friend, I wouldn't be able to handle it… I'm sorry I left you in all those timelines, I really am. But I'm here now."

"Oh, great… a chick flick moment," Michael muttered under his breath and turned to stalk from the room. Isabel followed, giving Liz and Max one final look before disappearing from view.

"I keep seeing it," Liz whispered. "Nightmares… only they come during the day, too. If I hadn't stopped you, if you'd died… I keep imaging what it would be like and I just…" She stopped her pacing and ran a hand through her hair, looking hurt and lost and scared, and for the first time in a long time, Max almost wished he hadn't told her the truth about who and what he was all those years ago, hadn't dragged her into this mess.

_Almost_.

He sighed. "Liz…" But he couldn't think of anything else to say, and even as both she and Maria looked at him, he found himself floundering for the right words.

It was Maria who spoke instead. "What happened, happened. And yeah, it sucks that I died when maybe I didn't need to, maybe you could have been saved some other way. But it's over, and we _can't_ change it. And I'd rather live in this timeline then worry about all the other ones."

* * *

When Tess showed up outside his door at three in the morning, Max's first instinct was to panic. Never mind the fact that she had made the four hour drive to Boston without calling anyone to let them know she was coming, a sure sign that the world wasn't ending as she did have enough common sense to alert them if it was. Never mind the fact that Kyle wasn't with her, and she never would have left him on his own if they were in danger. Never mind the fact that she just stood there, staring at him wordlessly, as though she didn't know what to say, and she would have most certainly been talking to him immediately if there was a problem.

It was three in the morning, and she was standing outside his door…

And she was crying.

"What's wrong?" he asked quickly. Behind him, he heard Liz's sleepy voice calling out to him, asking him who was at the door. He didn't answer, but instead kept staring at Tess, waiting for an explanation.

She merely shrugged and brushed a few tears out of her eyes.

"Tess?" Liz said, coming to stand next to Max, a blanket wrapped around her slender frame. The confusion in her voice turned to fear, and she demanded instantly, "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Yes. No. Not really… I don't know," Tess mumbled, a fresh wave of tears slipping from her blue eyes. There was a long pause, and then Tess took a deep breath and said, "I'm pregnant."

Max didn't know what to say. For a moment, his brain practically shut down, leaving him staring in numb shock at the crying woman outside his apartment. Tess was staring at him, clearly waiting for something, some response, but he had nothing to give.

Fortunately, Liz seemed to be much better able to deal with that revelation, and she wrapped her arm around Tess' shoulder and pulled her into the apartment.

"Come on in," Liz said. "Max will make some hot chocolate, and you can tell us what happened."

Max honestly had no idea what surprised him more – Liz's caring and concern towards the girl who had once been her enemy, or the way Tess docilely allowed herself to be lead into the apartment and pushed into one of the chairs.

At a pointed look from Liz, he hurriedly slipped from the room to make the requested hot chocolate. His mind was filled with questions, ones he knew had to be answered but wasn't entirely sure how they could be asked.

Was the baby alien? Who was the father? And was Tess going to keep it?

After the hot chocolate had been made, he headed back towards Liz and Tess, but paused in the doorway as he heard Liz ask quietly, "Who's the father, Tess?"

Tess' answer wasn't audible to Max, but Liz must of heard it, and something flashed through her eyes. Max couldn't read the emotion, though, and couldn't tell whether or not the answer upset Liz.

"Does he know?" Liz asked.

Tess shook her head and said nothing.

Liz sighed heavily, then said, "What happened?"

And Tess began to speak.

"Nick and I went to a club. We wanted to go out dancing, and I needed to blow off some steam. A couple hours into the night, he went into the bathroom and I went to the bar to get a Coke. The bartender… he put alcohol in the drink. I didn't know… so I drank it."

Max inhaled softly, not wanting to draw attention to himself as he listened to the story, but knowing just how dangerous alcohol could be to a hybrid. His own experience with it had nearly lead to their exposure and wreaked havoc on his body, and he was almost afraid to ask what Tess had done under he influence.

"When did you figure it out?" Liz questioned.

Tess shrugged. "Took a little while. I couldn't taste it, didn't know it was in the drink. About twenty minutes later, though… things got fuzzy. Blurry, I guess, and I couldn't really control anything… Nick figured out that something was wrong, figured out what the bartender had done. I think he might have ended up punching the bartender, too. He got really mad, and the other guy kept saying that I just need to loosen up and… Nick was… upset."

Max smiled grimly. If he'd been there, he'd have done the same thing.

"When Nick told me that I'd drunk alcohol, I panicked. I knew I had to get out of there before I completely lost all self-restraint and common sense. Before I did something stupid and got us all picked up by the FBI or something. So I told him to call Kyle."

"And Kyle came and got you?"

"Yeah. Brought me home. Fed Nick some story about me having a medical condition that made me unable to tolerate alcohol. I don't really remember anything… I was kind of delirious at that point. Nick wanted to take me to hospital, but Kyle talked him out of it. I don't know how, don't know what he said… everything's blank until I woke up at Kyle's apartment."

Tess stopped speaking then, and Max walked into the room. The pieces hadn't fallen into place, and a quick glance at Liz showed that she, too, was waiting for more of an explanation.

Max wordlessly handed the mug to Tess, and she accepted it, curling her fingers around the warn ceramic. Eyes moved towards him briefly, and then darted away, fixing on the carpet at her feet. She looked nervous, unsure of herself, and that was so out of character that all Max could do was stare.

Liz cleared her throat. "What… what happened afterwards…?"

Tess took a sip of the hot chocolate. "Nick was upset. We've been dating for three months, and then this happens and I… I went to _Kyle_. Nick didn't understand, and I wanted to explain it all, to tell him the truth but… but I couldn't. I couldn't tell him that I needed Kyle and not him, not Nick, because Kyle already knew that I was half-alien. He thought I trusted Kyle more than him, he thought…"

Max swallowed, his throat dry. He could perfectly understand Nick's point of view. In the past few months, the two of them had grown steadily closer, and then have something like this happen, to have Tess' drink spiked, and have her turn to Kyle for help instead…

Nick was no fool, he had to know exactly how Kyle felt about the petite blonde.

But Tess was right, she couldn't tell Nick the truth. It didn't matter that he had been accepting of their secret in some other timeline. Because in this timeline, they just couldn't trust him yet, and Tess, it was clear, had known that. She couldn't go to him when she was in some kind of alien trouble, and it really _was_ a good thing that she'd been thinking clearly enough to go to Kyle for help instead.

Kyle, at least, would protect her and keep her away from the wrong people while her body tried to clear the toxic substance from its system.

"We fought… badly," Tess said quietly. "I kept telling him that I really cared about him, wanted to be with him, but he said that he didn't understand why I kept lying and he _knew_ something was going on with me… And it got… bad…"

"Bad? How?" Liz pressed, looking pale. Max knew they were both thinking the same thing – had Nick done something to her? People could change drastically – Tess was proof of that – but Max still had trouble believing that this Nick, who had apparently adored Tess in another lifetime, would turn on her now.

"He told me he loved me."

Whatever Max had been expecting, _that_ was not it.

"We had this big fight, and he told me he loved me and he wanted me to trust him. And I just… I couldn't. And I think he knew that, so he… he said if I couldn't love him, couldn't trust him, then he didn't know what else to do, and he needed some space. Some time to think. So he walked out the door and I was just so angry and so hurt and I didn't know how to… how to handle it…"

"What did you do?" Liz questioned.

Tess put the hot chocolate down and rose to her feet. "What do you think I did?" she asked sharply. "I screwed up. I was hurt, and Nick… I thought maybe we were broken up, maybe it was really over and I was crying and I went to Kyle and…" She stopped abruptly, averted her gaze.

"You slept with him," Liz said bluntly.

Tess nodded. "Yeah," she whispered. "God, how could I have been such an idiot?"

Max looked quickly at Liz, and saw the way her mouth thinned into a straight line and her eyes hardened slightly. Something about Tess' story was making her angry, and he wondered what it was, and who she was mad at.

"Why did you come here?" Liz asked, her tone slightly colder than it had been before.

If Tess picked up on the subtle change, she did not give any indication of it. "Where else was I suppose to go?" she asked, a little bitterly.

"To Isabel?" Liz suggested flatly.

Though Max felt a little wary at the sudden change in Liz's demeanor, he couldn't deny that she had a good point. Tess was much closer friends with Isabel than she was with either Max or Liz, or for discussing something of this magnitude, Isabel seemed like a much better choice.

"I thought about it," Tess admitted slowly. "But she… she's pretty close to Kyle. I didn't think she'd be able to keep her mouth shut about this."

"You're not going to tell Kyle?" Liz demanded incredulously.

Tess' eyes darted towards Liz, and then moved away. "Not yet," she said softly. "I want to think first. I want to know… what I'm going to do. I want to…"

"Don't you think he has a right to know? It's his kid, too."

Max glanced back and forth in between the two girls. Liz's eyes were narrowed angrily, and Tess was already on the defensive, sensing that something was wrong. And it was at moments like this, when Tess' blue eyes widened light a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, that Max wondered how he had ever looked at her and thought she was dangerous.

She'd changed a lot since high school. They all had, of course, but something about Tess was different now. The cold, hard edge was gone, the defense mechanism that he had finally recognized for what it was – a means to make sure no one else had a chance to hurt her ever again. Underneath that aloof exterior, she was a whole lot like the rest of them.

And right now, she was terrified.

But she was also perceptive enough to know what the problem was long before Max himself had figured it out.

"You think I'm using Kyle," she said.

"Aren't you?" Liz shot back. "I might not be as close to Kyle as Isabel is, but you slept with him knowing full well how much he cares about you."

Folding her arms over her chest, Tess replied, "Yeah. And he slept with me knowing full well how messed up I was from the fight with Nick." Liz didn't say anything, possibly because she recognized the truth in those words, and Tess continued in a steadily rising voice, "I _want_ this child. I don't want to get rid of it, but I don't know how to do this. I don't know if I'm even _thinking_ straight, and I don't know _what_ to tell Kyle or Nick, or what I even _want_ to tell them and I just… I _don't_ know. And yeah, I _know_ I screwed up and I know I made a mess and I _know_ I wasn't thinking straight. But I _didn't_ do this to hurt Nick and I _certainly_ didn't do it to hurt _Kyle_, and I don't need you to tell me how much I've managed to _ruin_ things because I _already_ know that."

When Tess stopped, she was breathing heavily, and the anger was slowly fading from Liz's expression, replaced by pity and compassion. Max knew that she cared about Kyle, knew that she didn't want him to get hurt. But there was no denying the hurt in Tess' voice or the sincerity of her words. And there was no denying that she was scared.

Licking dry lips, Tess pressed on, "And I came here because four years ago when you found out that I had murdered Alex in another timeline, you still gave me the benefit of the doubt that I wouldn't do it again, that I wasn't a traitor and a bad person… and I thought that maybe you'd still be willing to do that now."

There was a complete silence, and Max could hear his own heart beating in his chest.

Then Liz said quietly, "Okay, first of all, you need to calm down. If you really want to keep this baby, then you need to do things for the baby. Like not letting yourself get stressed because all that adrenaline is certainly not good." She stood, took Tess by the arm and pulled her back to the chair she'd been sitting on earlier. "And you're going to get through this, okay? Whatever you decide to do… we're going to help you. And it's going to be okay. Got that?"

Tess pressed her hands to her stomach and nodded. "Yeah," she whispered. "Okay."

* * *

Once again, Isabel invited Jesse over for dinner. This time, Maria and Michael weren't there, although Alex was, which had the potential to make the evening even more awkward.

But this time, Jesse brought a friend.

Her name was Serena, she showed up with a bright smile and fiery red hair that matched her sharp and sarcastic personality, and that set off all sorts of alarm bells and flashing lights in Max's mind, but Liz simply smiled and invited Serena into the apartment, content to let the evening play out however it would.

"So… are you and Serena… you know…?"

"Intrusive, much?" Alex said quietly, shooting Liz a quick look.

Max stifled a smile as Jesse waved away Alex's comment. Serena and Isabel were in the dining room, talking fashion or some other subject that Max didn't particularly want to join in on, and he, Jesse, and Alex had made a hasty retreat to the kitchen. But Liz had followed, interested in the exact details of the relationship between the lawyer and the fiery redhead.

And she apparently had no qualms about simply asking.

Apparently, Maria was _really_ rubbing off on her.

"We're not a couple, if that's what you're asking," Jesse answered good-naturedly. "She's doing some work for the law firm, one of the cases I've been assigned to. And she's relatively new to Boston, so I thought maybe she'd like to meet some people." He paused, looking at Max, "I hope you don't mind that she came along tonight."

"Of course not," Liz answered with a knowing smile. Whatever Jesse said, it was clear that Liz had already made her own assumptions about the two of them.

"When did she turn into Maria?" Max asked quietly, glancing at Alex.

Alex laughed, and replied, "You're the one dating her. Shouldn't you know?"

"Anyway, I really appreciate you guys being so welcoming," Jesse said, glancing over his shoulder at Isabel and Serena. "Getting used to a new city is a bit of a challenge, and Boston is quite different from Roswell."

"Any time," Max answered, feeling a bit hypocritical to being acting like a welcoming host now when he had clearly not wanted Jesse there before. But there was less tension now, and the arrival of Serena had certainly eased any lingering doubts about this.

Serena and Liz were friends in every timeline, and they'd stayed friends even after Serena learned their secrets. So maybe this was supposed to happen. At the very least, he couldn't imagine that anything bad would come out of it.

Alex and Jesse headed back towards Isabel and Serena, leaving Liz and Max alone.

"Have you talked to Tess?" Liz asked, the questioning coming out of nowhere and taking Max by surprise.

He shook his head. She'd dropped the bombshell of being pregnant on them only a few days ago, and sooner or later they would need to have a more serious conversation with her about what this meant for the safety of the group. But, at Liz's pointed urging, Max had agreed that she needed time to talk to Kyle first.

He still didn't know what she was going to do. Would she go back to Kyle, or attempt to stay with Nick?

No matter what, this was going to be messy. He only hoped it wasn't as messy as Isabel's break up with Alex.

"We should call her tomorrow," Liz said thoughtfully. "She could probably use the support. I wonder if she's told Kyle yet… The sooner they get back together, the easier it will be for her."

Max raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think they'll get back together? She really likes Nick. And she was happy with him once, wasn't she?"

Liz nodded. "And she'd probably be happy with him again, too. The uh… future version of you… said that his memories of Nick showed the guy to really be… well, a good person. And really in love with Tess."

"And yet you're sure that she'll go back to Kyle?"

Liz leaned against the countertop, her gaze going past Max towards the other room. In a low voice, she said, "Tess was a lot of things in the other timelines. A traitor, a victim, an ally… She changed, a lot. But when she betrayed all of us, killed… Alex…" She paused, fumbling over the words, because even though they all trusted Tess now, even though she was definitely part of the group, an ally, a friend, it was still hard to think of what she had done to them in the past. "Still… she sacrificed her life to protect her… your… son."

Max nodded.

"And in the timeline with Nick, she made amends with us so that your son would know you, would get a chance to know his biological father. And in the timeline when you two were together and… um…"

Max flushed darkly and looked away, knowing what she was referring to. The timeline when he had been with Tess, and yet kissed Liz… in their house, in front of his son.

"She was mostly angry with me because our son had seen…" Max whispered, unable to finish the sentence. He was glad he knew about the various timelines, about the mistakes they had made in the future. It was the only way they had even the slightest chance of avoiding those same mistake this time around.

But it didn't make it any easier to face the fact that, more than once, he had become someone completely unrecognizable to himself.

"And the timeline when she had Kyle's baby… well, the future version of you did say she was protective of her child. Very protective." Liz let out a long breath. "Whatever else you can say about Tess, that has been consistent. When push comes to shove, she always tries to do what is best for her child."

Max thought about it, and found himself reluctantly agreeing with her assessment. "And you think going back to Kyle is what is best for the baby?"

"It's his baby, too. And maybe things won't work out between them," Liz answered. "But she's going to at least try. For the kid's sake… she'll try."

They lapsed into silence for a long moment, and Max mulled over everything Liz had said. Then, as Alex made some comment and Serena laughed in response, Max let his gaze wander to the others and said, "So… Serena."

"Yeah," Liz agreed. "It feels… weird."

"Weird how?" Max asked – _demanded_ – instantly.

Liz rolled her eyes at him and said in a slightly teasing voice, "Not everything is alien-related, you know. At least, not end-of-the-world, alien-related." Turning away from Max, she gazed hard at Serena and explained, "It's just… I was friends with her in every timeline, wasn't I? So… I should be friends with her now, as well. And she's here, at our door, like… like fate."

Max nodded in agreement. It was weird, in ways he couldn't quite explain. Going through life with a vague idea of what was going to happen – what was supposed to happen – left him with the uneasy feeling that this wasn't _his_ life. He didn't have control over it all, and he rebelled against that, the same way he'd rebelled against the idea of destiny.

"I almost don't want to be friends with her," Liz continued, still watching the redhead. "Just to see what would happen. But then I get worried about what will happen if this future gets screwed up and we need to undo it somehow and I just…" She heaved a sigh. "It just bothers me, sometimes. The more things change…"

"The more they stay the same," Max finished for her.

It bothered him, too.

After another moment of silence, Liz walked out of the kitchen, joining the others. He watched as she struck up a conversation with Serena. Alex and Jesse were debating something, and Isabel detached herself from the others and joined Max in the kitchen.

"You okay?"

Max nodded. "Liz and I were just talking about Serena being here."

"Yeah." Isabel rolled her shoulders, stretching out tense muscles, and continued to stare at Max. He met her scrutiny, wondering what she was thinking.

It had been a while since he'd been able to read her expressions as well as he would have liked. They'd all changed over the years, but the confrontation with Khivar had left an imprint on Isabel's personality. It wasn't unexpected, given what she had gone through during their fight against the skin king, but it had changed her in ways that Max didn't always like.

But at least she was alive. That was what mattered, in the end.

"I wonder what she's like. You know, besides saving us and all," Isabel said thoughtfully. Max frowned, and she quickly elaborated, "It's hard to look at her, or Jesse, or Nick, and see them as they are now. I keep thinking about what we know of them, in the future. I wonder what Serena is really like, what I would think of her, if I didn't already know that she was an ally of ours."

Knowing he was treading on dangerous ground, but unable to pass up the opportunity, Max asked tentatively, "And what do you think of Jesse?"

Isabel's eyes narrowed, but after a long pause, she said, "There's this… spark. A connection. I can't really explain it. It's not some sappy look-into-your-eyes-and-see-your-soul thing…" Max lifted his eyebrows at her veiled insult to his relationship with Liz, but Isabel pressed on anyway, "but it is there. The only problem is, I don't know if it's real."

"What?"

She exhaled slowly. "I don't know if I feel this way because… because I actually feel it. Or if it's just that I already knew all along that I could love him… _did_ love him… in another timeline." She looked away from Max, eyes landing on Alex. "I wonder that about Alex, too. I liked Alex before all of this started, but liking someone doesn't mean marrying them and spending the rest of my life with them. We were only sixteen and I… I don't even really know what I want anymore."

"You didn't have any problems being with him until Khivar showed up in Jesse's body," Max pointed out.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. But, again… was that because I actually loved him, or simply because I thought I was supposed to?"

Max looked at her, and shrugged. "I have no idea," he answered honestly.

She chuckled sarcastically. "Thanks."


	25. The Eleventh Dimension II: Continuum

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: So, we jump forward in time about two years, but there will be a few flashbacks in this chapter to address some important things that happened in the intervening time.

* * *

The Eleventh Dimension II: Continuum

_Since time is a continuum, the moment is always different, so the music is always different._

_- Herbie Hancock_

"_So… what happened? How did Nick handle everything?"_

_Tess gave Liz and incredulous, and somewhat annoyed, stare. "I told Nick I was pregnant with somebody else's child. How do you _think_ he took it?" Even as she said the words, though, the bitterness was seeping from her expression, and she hunched over, almost burying her head in her hands._

_Liz's eyes narrowed at the anger in Tess' tone, but then her expression softened and she said, "It'll be okay."_

_Tess laughed darkly. "Yeah. Right. Sure it will."_

_Liz turned towards Max, throwing a helpless look in his direction, but all he could do was shrug. There was little anyone could say to make this easier. He knew how much Tess liked – possibly even loved – Nick, and doing this to him was undoubtedly hurting her as well._

"_God… you should have seen his face," Tess continued in that same sour voice. "I mean… he looked like I'd torn out his heart and ripped it to shreds." She sniffled a few times, then said quietly, "I guess I did."_

_Isabel, who had been listening to the conversation quietly, came to sit next to Tess. "You made a mistake. It's not the end of the world."_

"_I'm pregnant and my boyfriend… ex-boyfriend… hates me," Tess retorted. Her eyes were swimming with tears, but she pushed them away and said in a shaky voice, "It might not be the end of the world, but it feels pretty damn close."_

_Max looked from Tess to Liz, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. Nobody had asked the question yet, and Max wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be the one to do it. But it had become quickly apparent that neither Liz nor Isabel had any intention of broaching the subject, and so he found himself asking hesitantly, "Have you told Kyle?"_

_Tess snapped her head towards Max, eyes suddenly hard and cold. "Yes," she said, biting off the word. And with that simple answer, with the fire that flashed momentarily through her blue eyes, Max knew that whatever Kyle had said or done in response to Tess' confession…_

_He clearly hadn't taken it well._

"_But hey… I guess this is just one more thing that is never going to change, huh?" Tess said._

"_What do you mean?" Isabel asked, eyebrows drawn together, face reflecting the same confusion that Max felt._

_Tess wiped a hand across her face. "In the timelines when Max and I…" Liz winced, and Tess paused, then pulled herself together and pressed on, "It's never _right_, you know? I get a kid because I screwed up, not because I actually wanted one. And now with Kyle… it's like it's the same thing all over. I mean, I'm not making deals with Khivar or anything, but I still… I still get a kid for all the wrong reasons."_

"_But you do… you do want this baby, right?" Isabel murmured tentatively. "I mean, you might not have planned it, but now that you are pregnant…"_

"_Yeah," Tess answered, her hands moving automatically to her stomach. "Yeah, I really do."

* * *

_

_Two years later..._

In his mind, this day would always be the happiest and worst day of his life. He didn't know at the time just how quickly things were going to unravel, didn't understand the significance of the disease sweeping through New York City. Didn't know that the epidemic was the beginning of the end for him – for the war – or that he had anything to fear. But looking back, he saw the pattern clear as day, and knew that the very moment that the first citizen of the Big Apple got sick was the moment that started everything.

But _in_ that moment, nothing mattered, nothing except the small box burning a hole in his pocket and the nervous beating of his own heart.

Liz was leaning against the counter in the kitchen of their apartment, the one they had shared for the last several months. She was watching the television, dark hair following over her eyes, obscuring her face from his view. But he could tell by the tense line in her shoulders that she was upset, and he turned his own gaze towards the screen.

"What's going on?"

She started and looked at him, apparently having not heard him enter the room. "Epidemic of some kind," she answered, nodding to the image of an overcrowded emergency room on the television. "They think it might be the flu. A particularly virulent one."

Max thinned his lips. "Michael and Maria? Kyle and Tess?"

"Already out of the city. They're in New Jersey right now, and might come up here if things get bad," Liz answered with a frown. She turned the television off and looked at him. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

"As long as Michael and Tess don't end up in the hospital," Max agreed with a heavy sigh.

Liz shrugged. "If they get sick, you'll heal them. They both know enough to not go to a hospital. And to not take Abby there, either."

Max nodded.

It should have occurred to him then. He knew it should have, because he knew about the bioterrorist attacks in the other timeline. Liz had told him, and the Max from the future had told her, and they _knew_ that at some point an lien virus would spread quickly through New York City, destroying virtually anyone in its path, and bringing the FBI into the city to investigate.

But the hand in his pocket closed around the small box and Liz was looking at him, and he couldn't think of anything else.

"Liz," he began, his tone far too formal for his liking. But now that he had fallen into this manner of speaking, it felt as though he couldn't let go of it. "I was hoping we could speak…"

"Are you alright?" Liz asked, a flash of worry and amusement passing through her features.

His fingers tightened reflexively, the edges of the box pressing into his palm, and he tried to calm down. Tried to tell himself there was no reason to be nervous. But it was the rest of his life that would be affected by this, and even if he was fairly certain he knew how she would respond, it did nothing at all to ease the knot of tension slowly forming in the pit of his stomach.

"I keep thinking about all the futures," he said. "All the different timelines. And how screwed up everything was. And… I don't know, it feels different here. I mean, the timeline hasn't been perfect, but we're going to graduate soon and go out into the real world, and maybe… maybe this time we'll be more prepared for everything. Alien and human. You know?"

Liz nodded mutely. It had taken several months after the attack in New York before she could quite get over the fact that maybe Maria's death wasn't necessary in all those other timelines, and even now, Max wasn't sure how often she thought back on it. It didn't upset her as much, but the thoughts were still there, haunting them all.

All the things they had lost, and still could lose, if they didn't get it right this time.

"But there's so much we don't know. Why hasn't Khivar attacked us again? Why hasn't anything at all happened in the past two years? What is he waiting for, what is he planning? I can't help but worry about it all, and wonder if… if we'll survive whatever is coming next." Max sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "But I also know that… that I love you. And sometimes, that seems like the only thing that really matters. And I want to be with you forever, no matter how short or long that is."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box, carefully opening it to reveal the ring inside. It was a simple silver band with a single diamond in the middle, nothing too extravagant. But it didn't really matter to either of them what it looked like. All that mattered was what it represented.

"Liz Parker," Max said, his throat suddenly dry, "will you marry me?"

There was a long pause, and Liz simply stared at him, as though she could not find the right words. But there was only one word she needed to say, and as a soft smile lit up her face, she forced out a choked, "Y-yes…"

He slid the ring onto her finger, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders, resting her head on his chest. He held her tightly, and for that brief moment, nothing else in the world really mattered.

But in New York City, the epidemic continued to spread, and a few members of the FBI began to wonder.

* * *

For once, Max was actually relieved to be away from Liz. It wasn't that he didn't love being around her, didn't enjoy seeing her so eagerly planning her own wedding, ecstatic over every detail. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate just how important this was to her, or that he didn't like the way her face lit up whenever he walked into the room, or that he wasn't happy that her parents and his parents were so supportive of them.

It was that she'd asked Isabel to help with the planning.

Alex placed a Coke on the table in front of Max and bit back a grin. "You look a little shell-shocked, man."

Max shook his head wordlessly, then managed to sputter, "There were flowers and different kinds of cake and Isabel kept going on and on about vows and I just…"

"Yes, well… you _are_ Isabel's brother," Alex pointed out lightly as he took a sip of his own soda. "She wants the wedding to be perfect for you."

Max grimaced. "It's going to be a whole lot less perfect for everyone if she drives me insane first. We'll have to have the wedding in some kind of mental hospital."

"Well, at least she has Maria to balance her out," Alex said after a pause.

Max nodded, and said with a touch of irony in his voice, "I never thought I'd say this, but Maria has been the voice of reason in all this."

Alex chuckled. "Well, you are the one who proposed, Max. You had to know what would happen the minute you told Isabel that you were getting married." Then he sobered and asked, "You're sure it's not too much stress? I mean, I don't think Liz would mind if you pushed the wedding out a few months…"

"No," Max said firmly. "I'm not changing this."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "That was… emphatic."

Max looked down at the table and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I know. I just… We're not in control. This is Khivar's game, and he's making all the rules, and he _knows_ it."

Frown lines momentarily marred Alex's features, and he asked in obvious confusion, "What?"

Max swallowed uneasily. "I killed Nicolas, and Khivar didn't attack us again for over a year. Then he tries to take Isabel and fails, and again doesn't attack us for two years. Then Rath and Lonnie and some skins try to kill Maria and we defeat them and Khivar does nothing. And I know that we should think of this… this respite… as a good thing, but it's not. Khivar is always the one to attack. We're waiting for him to make the moves, to do everything. To fight the war. It's all on his terms, and we don't know when or how he'll strike next. Yes, knowing about the future helps a little, but not enough. He's still the one controlling this war. I mean… Alex, it's been _two_ years and we still don't know why they went after Maria."

It wasn't a conversation he meant to have with Alex. It was more the sort of thing he'd talk to Michael about, or Isabel and Liz, or even Tess. But none of them were there at the moment, and he needed to say this, needed to explain, because it was weighing heavily on his mind. As long as they were always on the defensive, how could they ever hope to win?

"I have to go through this wedding, now, the way we want it. Because… because I love Liz and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want this to be something that she and I control, not… not something controlled by other people."

"I'm talking about delaying the wedding so that you don't have to plan it during your finals and so close to graduation, Max," Alex said gently. "Not because we're at war."

"I know. But I just… I don't want to give in to anything else. Not even college. I want to marry Liz, and if she wants to get married over the summer, then we'll get married over the summer. And _nothing_ is going to prevent that."

* * *

"Mr. Evans. Might we have a moment of your time?"

Max looked up, surprised. He was sitting at the library, his head buried in a book as he tried to do some last minute studying before finals. He had not heard the nondescript man approach, and was caught completely unaware.

His gaze ran up and down over the man. Brown hair and brown eyes, tan skin. Average height, average build. Average in almost every way.

That alone was enough to tell Max that this man was _anything_ but average.

And if he had any doubts about who the man was, they were quickly discarded as the man reached into the pocket of his sports jacket and withdrew an FBI badge, holding it up for Max to see.

Max swallowed. "What is this about… Agent White?" he asked, reading the name on the badge.

Agent White smiled, and said coolly, "Are you sure that is a conversation you want to have in public? Believe me, that won't end well for you." He glanced around the library with an air of distaste, as though he couldn't quite believe he'd deigned to enter such a place. Then he switched his gaze back to Max, wearing the same infernal smile, and Max shuddered.

He glanced down, and noticed that Agent White's right hand was resting on the gun he wore on his belt. He quickly straightened himself, refusing to allow the FBI agent to see his fear. "Did you have somewhere in mind?" he asked.

"I believe that the library has a few conference rooms, and I am sure that one of them is empty. Perhaps we should talk there. And don't worry, I've already swept that room for bugs. You don't have to be concerned about being… overheard."

That was little comfort to Max, but he allowed himself to be lead towards the conference room. In his mind, he ran quickly through a list of possible escape plans, considering everything from demanding a lawyer to simply using his powers and fleeing. But he wasn't sure which one was the best, wasn't sure which one would cause the least amount of problematic repercussions.

And so he had no plan at all, and ended up standing in the empty conference room across from an FBI agent who quite obviously knew who and what he was.

"Mr. Evans, please, have a seat," Agent White said, nodding towards the table.

Max thought fleetingly of refusing, but decided against it. He pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, trying his best to keep his breathing under control and steady his racing heartbeat.

"I am sorry to interrupt your studying," Agent White continued as he slid into the seat across from Max and studied the hybrid with a feral glint in his eyes. "I am sure this is a stressful time for you, having to worry about graduation and a wedding." A slight pause, then, "And how is Ms. Parker?"

Max's eyes narrowed. "Leave Liz out of this. She has nothing to do with any of it."

Agent White laughed, a chilling sound. "Doesn't she, though?" he murmured, leaning forward. Max didn't say anything, and White continued, "Alright, let's get right down to business, shall we? I'd like to ask you a few questions about your… friends. Starting with…" he pulled out a photograph and placed it in front of Max, "her."

Max looked down at the chubby cheeks and bright blue eyes of the toddler. The girl was looking at something just to the right of the camera, smiling happily and clapping her hands. Behind the girl stood two people in their earlier twenties, the woman with blonde curls and the man with brown locks.

Max inhaled slowly, then lifted his gaze to Agent White. "I don't know who she is," he answered.

Agent White snorted. "You have nothing to gain from lying, Mr. Evans," he said, rolling his eyes. He leaned forward even further, and added, "Let me make this situation a bit clearer for you, Mr. Evans. The library is being watched by other Agents from my team. You may have some crazy notion that you can either lie or fight your way out of this conversation, but I assure you, it is not that simple. I have waited a long time to speak to you, and I have no intention of allowing you to walk out of here without providing some answers. So if you want to keep yourself, your friends," he tapped his finger on the photograph, "and this pretty little girl safe, then I suggest you start talking."

Max remained silent.

"Fine," Agent White snapped, "Do you need a reminder? Her name is Abby Valenti, her parents are Tess Harding and Kyle Valenti. Is that correct?"

Max glared silently at the FBI agent.

"And what can you tell me about Tess Harding and Kyle Valenti, Mr. Evans? What can you tell me about their relationship?"

_It was supposed to be a quick trip down to New York to check on Tess. Even though they were fairly certain that the baby would be completely human – Tess said alien pregnancies only last a month and it had been over four months since the conception – they still didn't want to take her to a hospital. The risk was too great, and that unfortunately meant that the temperamental blonde was going through the rollercoaster of pregnancy without a doctor._

_It was supposed to be a quick trip… and yet somehow, Tess had convinced Isabel to stay an extra night, and since Max was driving Isabel back to Boston, he ended up being forced to spend the extra night as well._

_He was standing in the doorway to Tess' kitchen, watching as the two girls talked with their heads close together. They were speaking loud enough for him to hear, though, and it felt a bit like eavesdropping. Except that he was positive that they both knew he was standing there and could kick him out if they wanted privacy._

"_It doesn't feel weird? Being with Kyle? You don't… I mean, you're happy, right?"_

_Tess was silent for a moment, thinking. Then she nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess I am. I mean… I really like Kyle."_

"_That wasn't particularly enthusiastic," Isabel said cautiously._

_Tess shrugged. "Yeah, I know. It's… hard. I won't lie about that. Sometimes, it feels like I only made this decision because of the baby, and if we hadn't slept together, then I'd still be with Nick. And I don't know. Maybe that's true. But I do really like Kyle."_

"_What do you like about him?" Isabel pressed._

_Tess smiled wistfully and stared off into space. "I like the fact that he sings in the shower when he thinks no one can hear him. I like that he puts so much sugar in his coffee it makes my teeth hurt, but he won't drink it if it has even a drop of milk. I like the way his eyes light up when he talks about football and the way he smiles when he looks at me. I like that talks to the baby, and I like that he blushes bright red whenever I tell anyone that. I like that I can tell him I'm tired and he knows that means I want ice cream and pickles. I like that he doesn't care that I'm a freak."_

_Isabel chuckled at the last one. Then she sobered and asked, "And you don't think about… about all the what-ifs?"_

_Tess looked up, her gaze going past Isabel and landing on Max. He stared back at her, and she held his gaze for a beat before looking at Isabel and answering honestly, "If Kyle and I… if we don't work, then we don't work, and we'll cross that bridge when we get there."_

_Isabel chewed her lip thoughtfully and lowered her head, staring at the table. Max watched her for a long moment, wondering if he should interrupt, or join in the conversation, or just walk away._

_Then Tess said, "I'm not Liz. Or Maria. I don't have this… this epic love. I don't have any of that soul mate whatever that they keep going on about, and that's fine. I don't need it. I never thought I'd say this, but… but I don't need any kind of destiny to tell me what's right and what's wrong. I'll figure it out. And contrary to what I'm sure Liz thought of me when I first told her I was pregnant, I don't jump into bed with people I don't love. So even if I'm not expecting fireworks or thunder and lightning...and I'm not waiting for divine intervention and prophetic signs… and I'm not thinking about all the other possibilities… Kyle is… Kyle. And that's enough for me."_

"_Oh, God," Isabel muttered, dropping her head onto the table. "Who'd have thought you'd be the one to end up with the most grown-up relationship out of the group?"_

"_I ended up in this relationship because I got into a fight with my boyfriend and then ended up sleeping with my ex," Tess countered, a bit ironically. "You call that grown-up?"_

_Max left the kitchen then, and didn't hear the rest of the conversation. _

"Is their child human?"

Max started and glared at Agent White. "Of course she is!"

Again, the FBI Agent shook his head, somewhat exasperated. "You're still not getting it, are you? We _know_ about you. We know _a lot_ about you. And your lies will only get you into even more trouble, Mr. Evans."

"It's not a lie!" Max hissed. And it wasn't. Abby Valenti was completely human.

Agent White frowned, then nodded slowly. "Alright. Now… tell me about her mother. Tess Harding."

"Blonde. Blue eyes. Likes ice cream," Max deadpanned.

"And has the ability to control people's minds?" Agent White finished. "That's a neat trick. Most twenty-somethings aren't quite as talented."

Max gaped. It took him a moment to regain his senses his school his expression back to neutral, but inside he was still panicking. How did the FBI know so much about them?

"Alright, then let's move on to someone else, shall we?" Agent White said with a sigh. "How about Ms. Isabel Evans? What can you tell me about her?"

Max didn't answer.

"Mr. Evans, you are _not_ helping yourself," Agent White said, a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

"I'm not telling you anything," Max snapped.

"Then let me tell you something," Agent White said with a huff of irritation. "A story, perhaps?" He lifted one eyebrow, watching for a reaction from Max, but the hybrid king stared at him coolly and gave nothing away. Agent White lifted his chin slightly, and said, "Make yourself comfortable, this story may take a while."

"What could you possibly have to say that would interest me?" Max asked.

Agent White smiled, lips curling upwards into a thin smirk. Lifting his hand, he pointed towards the ceiling with one finger and said, "Somewhere up there, in some galaxy far, far away, you've got a home planet. And you're pretty important to people on that planet, although I'm not quite sure why. An outlaw, maybe? A fugitive? Either way, you and your band of alien followers are important enough for the rest of your planet to send people after you. People who apparently want you dead."

Max bit his lip to keep all remarks at bay. It was a bit terrifying just how close to the truth the FBI Agent was, although he apparently didn't know Max's exact identity.

It was almost amusing, the fact that he thought Max was an outlaw.

Almost.

"So, as we said, there is Ms. Harding with the ability to control minds. Ms. Isabel Evans with the ability to communicate with people across long distances and influences subconscious thoughts. Dreams, perhaps? And Mr. Guerin, quite the character, with a rather impressive ability to make things explode. And then, of course, yourself, with the ability to heal injuries. How am I doing so far, Mr. Evans?"

"Interesting theory," Max said with a bravado that he did not feel, "but completely crazy."

"Is it? Really? Well, hear me out, won't you? Humor me while I finish my tale." Agent White leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "I'm not the first FBI Agent to discover the truth about you four, am I? But interestingly, all the others are dead. Only a few of us remain who know the truth. You've seen to that, haven't you?"

"What are you accusing me of?" Max demanded furiously.

"Murder," Agent White answered easily, nonchalantly. "Oh, I am sure you'll wave it off as self-defense, but you did kill, didn't you?"

For a moment, Max thought of Nicolas. But he savagely pushed that thought away. He would not dwell on the skin leader, not now. Not while he had a more pressing enemy to deal with, to somehow evade.

"Now, perhaps you fled to this planet with no intention of doing any of us harm. Perhaps you just wanted a place to live, to be safe," Agent White continued thoughtfully, his cold smile firmly back in place. "But you brought a battle with you, didn't you? You brought enemies. You brought all of this on us, and for what? Your own safety? How many humans have died for your protection, Mr. Evans, and how many will continue to die in the future?"

His tone had gotten hard and cold, a firm edge to it. But it wasn't the tone that bothered Max so much as the words, and the inherent truth behind them. None of this was his fault, not really, but did that change the fact that people had died because of him? And would continue to die?

"Now… you've heard my story, so tell me some of yours. Tell me about your sister, Mr. Evans. Tell me what kind of person she is. Her hopes and dreams… and fears."

Max refused to say anything, even as a vague memory played through his mind.

"_Need a hand with anything?"_

_Max looked up as Isabel poked her head into the kitchen. Liz had prepared the meal, and all he was doing was serving the dishes. "Thanks, Izzy, but I've got it covered."_

_Isabel nodded and glanced over her shoulder towards the other room. Max could see Liz talking quietly to Maria and Alex. Michael was still in New York having to work, and neither Tess nor Kyle really wanted to make the trip, so it was just the five of them._

"_You should go join them," Max said, nodding to their friends. "I'll have everything out on the table pretty soon." Isabel chewed her lip and nodded, a hesitancy in her gaze. Max sighed and turned away from the food, giving his sister his full attention. "What's wrong?"_

"_I talked to Tess this morning," Isabel murmured. "She seems so… happy."_

_Max raised one eyebrow and asked in some bewilderment, "Is that a bad thing? She's your best friend, Izzy."_

"_I know, I know," Isabel agreed, waving away Max's comment. "Of course I'm happy for her. But I just… I don't know. Everyone else has found the _one_ and I still feel like I'm treading water or something."_

"_Didn't you date about twelve different guys last year?" Max asked curiously, a hint of a smile pulling at his features. His attractive sister had never really had a problem getting a date, but it had also been clear that her heart wasn't really in any of those relationships._

_She frowned at him._

"_You know," he said carefully, well aware that he was treading on thin ice, "maybe there is a reason why you're not finding the right guy yet. Maybe you already found him."_

_Isabel folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Not you, too," she groaned._

"_Hey, you're the one who brought up the subject," Max defended himself. "Can't blame me for that."_

_For a moment, Isabel looked like she was going to argue, but then she just shrugged. "I went out with Daniel a few times this week," she said._

_Max tilted his head to the side. "Daniel? Uh… blonde guy, right? From one of your classes? Tall, lanky? Really boring?" She glared at him again, but this time there was no heat behind her expression. "How'd that go?" Max pressed._

_Again, Isabel shrugged. "Fine, I guess. It was just so… normal. We had coffee, we went to dinner, we saw a movie. Three dates, and it just… I don't know. The world didn't end or anything like that."_

_Max grinned. "Yeah. You do realize the world not ending is a _good_ thing, right?"_

"_Yeah, I know," Isabel said, slumping against the wall. "I just feel like I'm in this rut, and the rest of you are moving around, going past me and I… I don't know. I'm stuck. I can't keep up."_

_For a moment, Max was quiet, thinking over all the possible things he could say. Isabel was gazing at him expectantly, waiting for answers he didn't have, and he sighed, wishing he had more to offer her._

"_Look," he said finally, "I know that you're trying really hard to have a different life. To not let what we know about the other futures dictate how we act now. And I get that, I really do. But if you don't want anything to do with those lives, it means you're going to miss the good along with the bad."_

_He picked up a tray and stepped around Isabel, towards the dining room. She caught his arm as he passed, searching his face for a moment._

_Then she smiled. "You're not so bad at this, you know. Listening and sympathizing and giving advice. You're like… practically a girl."_

Max pushed back his chair and looked away from Agent White, trying to keep his thoughts focused. Part of him wanted to run, but what could he do? If the place really was surrounded, then there was probably no chance of escape. And if he used his powers, he risked exposure. Agent White knew a lot, but it didn't seem as though he had any proof yet. Just conjecture. Just theories.

"I must admit, I have several questions for you," Agent White said, leaning back in his chair. He tapped one finger on the photograph still on the table and added, "About Abby Valenti, for instance. How did two aliens give birth to a pure human?"

"Kyle's not an alien," Max answered, lips flattening into a straight line. "And you clearly haven't done decent research if you think otherwise."

"Ah… yes. So tell me, what did you do to him? How did you turn him into one of you?"

Max said nothing, and the door behind him suddenly swung open. He turned sharply to stare up at the woman who had entered. She was young, perhaps about his age, and she gave him a cursory look, before turning towards Agent White with a questioning expression.

"Mr. Evans, may I introduce Agent Jennifer Walker?" Agent White said with a casual wave of his hand.

Max's eyebrows rose slightly as he took in the site of the other woman. In several of the timelines, Kyle had married a woman named Jennifer, he knew that much. And in at least one, if not more, of those timelines, Jennifer had secretly been FBI.

Jennifer took a seat next to White and smiled, a smile that lacked all warmth. "Pleasure," she drawled. Max still said nothing, and she folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side.

"Now… where were we?" Agent White mused. "Ah, yes. Kyle Valenti. You were going to tell me how you turned him into one of you. And the same with Ms. Parker, I believe."

"I'm not telling you anything," Max replied. "And you have no right to hold me here."

Agent White laughed. "I don't need _rights_," he answered honestly. "Trust me, there isn't anyone in my organization – or any other organization – who will stop me."

Max clenched his hands into fists. It was like Pierce all over again, although as of right now, Agent White had made no move to physically hurt him.

"Tell me, why the virus?"

Max looked up sharply, eyes darting towards Agent Walker. She was staring at him, her gaze blunt and questioning and completely devoid of compassion. Unlike Agent White, she wasn't even pretending to be civil. There was a hardness to her expression, a firm set of the lines of her face, that indicated just how little she thought of Max.

"What virus?" Max asked, honestly confused.

"The one in New York City," Agent Walker replied calmly. "The alien virus currently killing anyone it infects."

Max just stared at her, completely taken aback. The news reports had all said it was some kind of flu, and he'd ignored it, hadn't thought to question those facts. None of them had.

But the epidemic in New York City had occurred in almost every timeline, wiping out a large amount of the population and bringing the FBI into the equation again. How could he have seen the news reports and not remembered this? Even if they were saying that it was the flu?

In every timeline in which they had occurred, this epidemic had been the beginning of the end. The final stage of the war.

"I… I didn't know it was alien," he admitted. "I had nothing to do with that."

"Right," Agent Walker drawled disbelievingly. "Sure you didn't. People are dying. I understand that you don't care about this at all, but _we_ care. These are _our_ people you're killing, and I won't just sit idly by and let you continue. I made that mistake once already, but I know better now."

"What do you mean?" Max asked, blinking in confusion. "When did you…"

"So let's move on to someone else, shall we?" Agent White interrupted, setting another photograph on the table.

Max glanced at it quickly, stomach twisting. He looked up at Agent White. "She has nothing to do with this, either."

"Maria DeLuca. Girlfriend of Michael Guerin. Daughter of Amy DeLuca, who is in quite a serious relationship with Jim Valenti. That would make her and Kyle Valenti practically siblings, wouldn't it?"

_And they argue like siblings_, Max thought wearily. How many times had he seen Maria and Kyle at each other's throat over nothing of any consequence? They bickered nearly as much as Maria and Michael did, and only occasionally did their disagreements touch on anything important.

Like the argument they had the week after Tess told Kyle she was pregnant.

"_How could you just walk out on her like that?"_

"_Hey, my entire life just got very screwed up, even by alien standards. Don't you think I'm entitled to a moment or two of panic?"_

"_Yes, Kyle, a moment or two. Not an entire _week_!"_

_Max frowned as he opened the door to his apartment to hear Maria and Kyle yelling at each other. He hadn't known that either of them had any plans to be in Boston that day, or that they were going to be visiting him, so as he stepped into the room, he automatically looked for Liz, assuming they'd made the plans with her._

_But she was nowhere to be seen._

_Maria was pacing in agitation, glaring at Kyle. The hapless football jock was sitting on one of the chairs at the table, slumped forward. But though he looked exhausted and frazzled, his jaw was clenched and his eyes flashed with anger as he stared back at the pixie blonde._

"_When did you become such a fan of Tess? You barely tolerate her most of the time and…"_

"_That doesn't give you the right to walk out on her when she's pregnant, you jerk!"_

"_Um… guys?" Max started._

_Maria ignored him, continuing her tirade. "It's your baby, too, and it doesn't matter how freaked out you are, it is still your responsibility."_

"_Stop dumping all of your daddy issues on me, Maria!"_

"_Guys?" Max tried again._

"_Shut up, Max!" Kyle and Maria both snapped in unison, giving him identical furious glares._

_Liz appeared at his side, resting a hand on his arm. "Leave them be," she whispered. "I tried getting involved, too. It didn't work. And I am the one they were both supposed to be visiting."_

"What's the matter?" Agent Walker sneered. "Cat got your tongue?" Max glared at her, but it did no good. She just shrugged and pressed on, "So tell me, Mr. Evans, what did you do back on your home planet? What crime was so horrible that you have an entire army of aliens after you?"

Max closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts. There was no reason to answer the question, he knew it would do no good. Somehow, the FBI knew far more about him than they should, and were determined to believe the worst. It was a typical human response, he supposed, and part of the reason he hadn't even told his parents the truth.

"We're not the enemy," Max said finally. "Look, it is true that the others don't care if people die. But we do care. We don't want this, we never wanted it. And we're not the ones you should be fighting."

Agent White chuckled softly, bitterly. "Is that so?" He leaned forward, his words a mere hiss, "You've killed, Mr. Evans, and so have your… _friends_. So don't tell me that you're not the enemy."

"We just want to live normal lives. We just want to be normal," Max said, realizing with a start that he was actually pleading with this man. He tried frantically to regain control, but he couldn't quite erase the begging quality of his voice. "You have to believe that. We don't want to hurt anyone."

"I don't have to believe anything you say," Agent Walker interjected smoothly. "If you don't want to give us an honest answer, that's fine. We can take care of the problem on our own."

There was absolutely no doubt in Max's mind what she meant by _taking care of the problem_.

"So you're going to kill me?" Max shot back, anger coursing through his veins. "Call it self-defense, of course, but it's still killing," he spat, throwing Agent White's earlier words back at him.

The agent jumped to his feet, eyes blazing. "Don't you dare compare us," he snarled, all traces of civility gone from his features and voice. "I am _nothing_ like you. You're the enemy, Mr. Evans, not me. Not us."

"We want this to end, Mr. Evans," Agent Walker said. "We want to stop the killing. And if you can't help us do that… well, you are the threat. If we just get rid of you and your friends…"

"You leave them out of this!" Max ordered tersely.

"I'm not the one who brought them into this," she answered softly. Beside her, Agent White slowly sat back down, and she gave him a quick look. Then she turned back to Max and continued, "I gave you the benefit of the doubt once. You know, Mr. Evans, the Bureau has been watching you for nearly five years now. We know about your trip to Copper Summit, about the people who died there. We know that something happened to Mr. Jesse Ramirez, although the details were vague. And we know about the fight in New York City two years ago, and the people who died there. And I thought… I thought that I could forgive it. You only killed aliens, after all, so maybe it really was in self-defense. I argued for the Bureau to leave you alone, to let you live your lives. That perhaps we could ignore all the deaths prior to that, assume that they were self-defense as well, and if we left you alone, no harm would come to us. And now… now we have hundreds of people dead or dying." She pressed her lips together for a moment, then said, "Clearly, I was wrong about you. But, as I said, I have no intention of repeating that mistake."

"I'm not responsible for the outbreak," Max answered honestly. "I'm not the one spreading the virus."

"Even if we believe that that is true," Agent White said, "which I highly doubt, you're still the reason for it. They're after you, aren't they?"

Max rubbed his eyes. What could he do? Lying would get him nowhere, and he certainly couldn't tell them the truth, no matter how much of it they had managed to guess. But he was not going to give them anything to use as leverage against the others. He would protect his family, no matter the cost.

A hard ball formed in the pit of his stomach. Was he really, truly thinking of going through with _this_?

And yet… what other choice did he have?

He needed to stall for time, to make sure he could do this, that he wouldn't screw it up at the last minute…

"Yes," he said. "Yes, they are after me."

"Why?"

"We just wanted to be normal," Max murmured. "But we saw the future, and we knew normal wasn't possible. Not really. So we just… we tried to survive. To stay alive."

"What do you mean? How did you see the future? Another power?" Agent White asked in interest.

Max laughed and shook his head. "Not quite. But yes, it was an alien thing. And so, I guess that you're right about us. We knew the epidemic could happen. We didn't know that it would happen, we weren't responsible for it. But we knew that it had happened before, in a different timeline, and so it was certainly a possibility. I don't know what we could have done to prevent it, if there was anything at all that could have stopped him from doing this. But… I guess it is possible that we could have done something different, and that… that thought haunts me."

He pushed back his chair and stood up, turning away from them and staring blankly at the wall. He heard both agents rise to their feet as well, and he drew a slow breath, knowing what was about to happen.

"It isn't the only thing you're right about, though…" he said softly.

Then he spun around and flung out both hands, sending a burst of energy towards the agents.

They were dead before they hit the ground.

"In the end, I can call it self-defense if I want, but it's still killing," Max said with a heavy sigh. "I'm still a killer."

* * *

"_I keep thinking about the future. All of them. I keep thinking… I keep thinking that I don't want this. Any of it. It… it scares me. Terrifies me, Max."_

_It had been months since Maria was attacked. Months, and they still didn't know why. Months since Tess had announced that she was pregnant, months since Kyle had freaked out at the news but still reluctantly took on the role of a father and boyfriend. Their lives had finally gotten somewhat back on track, and though Max was still waiting for the next battle, the next fight, feeling like it could happen at any minute. "What do you mean, Izzy?" he asked, looking up at his sister._

"_I mean… did you notice how in all the other timelines, I'm never happy? Khivar's after me, and Alex dies, and then Jesse dies, and I just… I don't know. It's like all my dreams, everything I wanted just gets… destroyed. Completely."_

_She sat down across from him, not quite meeting his gaze, and Max wondered if he was supposed to say something, or she just wanted someone to listen._

_A moment later, she started speaking again, "But Maria… I remember what she told Liz. That we've got this new timeline, and it's the one we should be worrying about. And… I don't know, but maybe I've been so worried about avoiding the other timelines that I've… I've tried to avoid this one, too. And I don't want that. I don't want to feel… stuck. Maybe I love Alex, and maybe I don't. Maybe I love Jesse and maybe I don't. Maybe the whole thing is messed up and I'll find someone else tomorrow and it will be perfect, but… but it isn't tomorrow yet. We're still here, and Jesse doesn't even know about any of this, about who and what I am, but Alex does and… maybe it's all wrong. Maybe I'll hate it. Maybe Alex and I won't work out, but I won't know unless I try. You know?"_

_Max ran a hand through his hair and studied Isabel for a long moment, before saying quietly, "You know, Izzy, I'm not the one you should be telling all this. Don't you think you should be talking to Alex?"

* * *

_

It was like some bad horror movie, Max thought, as he settled himself behind the wheel of the car, Liz riding shotgun and Alex and Isabel in the back seat. No one said anything at all, too in shock over what had happened. He didn't know where they would go, what they would do. He only knew that they needed to leave, needed to get out of the city now, while they still had the chance.

Isabel leaned her head against Alex's chest and he wrapped his arm around her and pressed a kiss into her hair. Max watched them for a moment in the rearview mirror, then turned his attention to the road in front of him.

Getting out of the library hadn't been easy. Agent White had not been bluffing when he said the place was surrounded by other members of the FBI. In fact, it was more by sheer luck than anything else that Max made it out of there. He'd had enough foresight to pull the fire alarm, thereby emptying the entire building and allowing him to slip out in the crowd. He'd gotten only about half a block from the building, however, before he had been forced to run, in broad daylight, away from the three agents who converged on him. Only skilful use of his powers to cause a diversion – an exploding car – had allowed him to get away and send a frantic phone call to the others, telling them it was time to run.

And now they were here.

"Michael is getting Maria and Tess. Kyle was with Abby when I called, so the two of them just fled, and they'll meet up with us," Liz said, breaking the silence.

Max nodded. "My picture will be on the news," he said, a bit numbly. "I don't think they caught me using my powers on tape, but… but I was running from FBI agents who were firing guns at me…"

"The important thing is that the rest of the world still thinks you're a human threat, and not an alien one," Alex spoke up. "I know it doesn't seem like much reassurance, and it isn't, not really. But at least we don't have to worry about the media or some other government knowing the truth."

Isabel shivered. "They'll still come after us. The FBI _knows_. And… and they'll come. After us, after our families. After Abby. How are we going to protect a baby in all of this?"

"We'll figure it out," Alex murmured, kissing her quickly. "Don't worry. She's got her Mommy and Daddy and Uncles Max and Michael and Aunt Isabel to look after her."

Isabel chewed her lip and didn't look convinced.

Max stared ahead, the scenery flying by outside the window of the car as they left their lives behind. It was over now, all of it. Every dream they had had for a normal life, every shred of hope they had desperately clung to with the belief that they could change the future, make it better…

It was all over.

"What happens now, Max?" Isabel asked tentatively.

Max shook his head and pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal. "I have no idea."


	26. The Twelfth Dimension II: Nonexistence 1

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Sorry for the delay. I'm out of the country right now, so I haven't had time or access to the Internet to be able to post anything.

The chapter got way too long, so I broke it into three parts. I have all three parts written, and just need to edit them, so it shouldn't take too long to have parts two and three finished, it's all just a matter of when I can get online to edit and post. There will be an epilogue after the third part, and that will end the story.

* * *

The Twelfth Dimension II: Nonexistence (part one)

_How is clean, painless nonexistence any worse than clean, painless death?_

_- Orson Scott Card_

They bought the van and quickly used their powers to change the color and the plates. The other cars were abandoned by the side of the road, and hopefully the FBI would have no way of following them. But it was the middle of the night – the cold, wet, dismal night – and hope was a commodity that was in short supply.

"What now? Back to Roswell?"

Max glanced at Maria dully and shook his head. "No. Roswell is the first place they'll look for us."

"But we have to tell our parents. Warn them. Don't we? I mean, what if the FBI goes after them to get to us?" Isabel muttered nervously, chewing on her lip as her eyes darted around the landscape that surrounded them, as though searching for hidden enemies among the never ending expanse of trees.

"She's got a point," Tess agreed, her arms wrapped tightly around her sleeping daughter. "You said they know a lot about us. If they know that Jim knows the truth…"

"You think they'll target my Dad?" Kyle demanded, hissing the words angrily.

Abby stirred, shifting and yawning, but not quite waking. The others were silent for a moment, all eyes on the child, and once again Max was hit by the horrible reality of the situation. They were fleeing for their lives from the FBI… with a baby.

He closed his eyes, and heard Michael say gruffly, "Yeah, so we can warn Valenti. But the others? What are you going to tell them, Izzy? They don't even _know_."

"We have to tell them something. We have to warn them. We can't just…" Isabel trailed off abruptly and Max snapped his eyes open and looked at her.

She was crying.

And there it was, out in the open, even if no one could quite finish the sentence. The FBI would go after their families, after all the people connected to them, and there was nothing they could do to stop it. Not without revealing the truth, and right now, Max wasn't sure that was something he could do.

He also wasn't sure it was something he could _not_ do.

"They don't know," Liz said softly, repeating Michael's words in a barely audible voice. Max looked at her, really looked at her, taking in the fear and exhaustion in her eyes. He sighed, unsure what else to do, and looked away.

"They can trace our cell phones," Alex said suddenly. "We need to get rid of those, too."

"But we need to call home and…" Maria started, and then stopped as Alex interrupted her.

"If we do, the FBI could pull our parents' phone records and _see_ that we called them. We might be able to warn our families, but it will just make the FBI that much more interested in them."

"Okay, so we ditch our phones. Can we get burn phones?"

Max gave Maria a blank look. "What are burn phones?"

"Um… like… untraceable, disposable cell phones. You know, the bad guys always use them to make the phone call to hire the hit man who kills the victim?" Max continued to stare at her in confusion, and Maria gave a huff of impatience and demanded, "Don't you watch television? Law and Order? Any of those police shows?"

"Oh." Max ran a hand through his hair and frowned. "Right." Now that she mentioned it, the idea was sort of ringing a bell, but he still wasn't so sure it would work in real life.

Television shows didn't always adhere to reality.

"Maybe we should split up," Michael suggested.

Max turned to him, shocked. "_What_?"

"Okay, just… think about it, Maxwell. Maybe it would be better if we all go our separate ways. Get the hell out of Dodge and…"

"And what? Hide?" Maria snapped. "There are aliens after us, too, you know. I thought we were going to try to stick together."

"I thought we were going to try to stay alive," Michael shot back. "At least this way, if they find one of us, they won't find all of us."

"And if Khivar finds us, we won't have any chance whatsoever of staying alive," Maria said. "I thought we believed in staying together. In doing things as a group instead of running off on our own whenever we wanted. Wasn't that the whole _point_?"

"I agree with Maria," Isabel said in a hushed tone. She looked at Michael with a beseeching stare, then added, "I just gave up my entire life. I don't want to give up my family, too."

Michael caved, albeit ungracefully, and muttered something under his breath that Max couldn't quite decipher. He didn't bother wasting time on trying to figure it out, though, because they had far too many other things to do before they could even begin to consider themselves safe.

"Okay, so we destroy our cell phones. We can call Jim from a pay phone and… I don't know. Maybe he can tell Mom and Dad for us?" he suggested, glancing quickly at Isabel.

"Wouldn't it be better if it came from us?" Isabel asked.

Max nodded glumly, but didn't say anything. In truth, he was terrified of having to tell his parents, terrified of what would happen once they knew the truth. And he knew he was being a coward, trying to force it off on someone else, but he couldn't help the fear that they would reject him – and Isabel – if they knew.

"I'll drive first," he said. "Everyone else should try to get some sleep. I have a feeling its going to be a long couple of days."

As he walked around to the driver's side of the van, Liz rested her hand on his arm and said in a low murmur, "You know, Max, your parents will love you regardless."

He didn't answer. He couldn't think of anything to say.

* * *

They didn't stop until they'd reached Michigan. The roadside motel was enough out of the way that Max felt relatively confident that they would avoid attention for the moment. They just needed to regroup and figure out the next step in their plan.

Liz flopped onto the bed almost immediately and let out a long breath, staring up at the ceiling. Max watched her for a moment, then turned to Isabel, who was standing near the window, staring up at the sky.

"Alex is settling into our room," she said, her voice hoarse. "I heard Michael and Maria arguing over how many blankets to put on the bed. God, those two will find anything to argue about…" She stopped suddenly and shook her head. Turning to face Max, she asked, "What are we going to do?"

"We'll figure it out," Max answered with more conviction than he felt.

"I keep thinking about everyone we left behind," Liz said from the bed. Max glanced at her, but she was still staring at the ceiling, and he had the strangest sensation that she was slipping away from him. "Jesse, Serena… even Nick."

"Bet Kyle's not shedding any tears over _that_ one," Isabel said under her breath.

Max smiled, a bit bitterly, and nodded. It had taken nearly six months for Nick to get over what had happened, and by the time Tess entered the third trimester of pregnancy, she was pretty convinced he would never want to talk to her again. She'd called numerous times in the beginning, trying to explain that she still cared about him and she still wanted to be friends…

Until Alex had pointed out to her that maybe Nick wasn't ready to be friends. After all, she had pretty much ripped out his heart, even if not all of it was her fault.

And then, six months later, Nick had walked back into her life, asking if she still wanted to be friends. Tess had been ecstatic. Kyle had been livid. It had been an interesting few weeks.

"They're not part of this, Izzy," Max said wearily. "None of them know the truth and I… I guess it's probably better that way." He didn't say anything else, didn't add the last comment that was running through her mind. That while Nick, Jesse, and Serena might wonder why the eight of them – nine including Abby – had disappeared now, eventually they would move on with their lives and forget.

It was a depressing thought.

"But I can't help thinking," Liz murmured. "I mean… Serena's _supposed_ to know about this. She knows in every other timeline, doesn't she? Did we miss the chance to tell her?"

"Things are going to be different," Max said firmly. "This time… it will be better. We're going to make sure of that."

"It's weird," Isabel said. "There are only three people who will miss us." She sank into the stained, wobbly chair near the off-balance wood table and rested her chin on the palm of one hand, elbow propped on the table. "I mean… remember when we used to have friends?"

"Um… no?"

Isabel looked at Max for a long moment, then sighed. "Okay, so you and Michael were loners in high school. But I wasn't. I had friends. And then sophomore year happened and I just… everything not related to aliens eventually just disappeared. We're running now… and there are only three people who will even care that we're gone."

"It's really only two. Nick will only care about Tess."

Max glanced at the door as Michael stepped into the room. "I'm not sure that was the reassurance Isabel was looking for," he said dryly.

"There's a pay phone in the lobby," Michael said, ignoring Max's comment. "We can call Valenti from there."

"Yeah, okay. I'll go call," Max agreed. He looked at Liz again, and this time she turned to look at him, to meet his gaze. Her eyes were filled with tears that did not fall, and their was an exhaustion in her expression that was only partially physical. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't come, and he turned away and left the room.

In the hallway, he paused only long enough to tell Kyle and Tess that he was going to call Valenti, in case either of them wanted to talk. Tess was putting her daughter to sleep, but Kyle followed Max into the hallway and towards the stairs.

Max thought suddenly of Isabel's earlier remark. It was true that Michael and Max hadn't really had friends outside of each other, and Alex, Liz, and Maria had been the same. But Isabel wasn't the only one who'd had other friends during middle school and high school, and Max couldn't help but wonder suddenly if Kyle regretted this. Regretted everything he'd been forced to leave behind as soon as he'd learned the secret.

He slanted a quick look at Kyle, but the football jock was looking in the other direction, back towards the room he was sharing with Tess and his daughter.

"How's Abby?" Max asked.

Kyle turned sharply, apparently surprised by the question, then shrugged. "Okay. A little confused, but… she's really too young to care about this. As long as Mommy's around, she's fine."

And how much longer would Mommy be around?

Max pushed the morbid thought from his mind, not willing to dwell on the possibilities of the future. They weren't going to die this time. He wasn't going to let them.

The lobby was nearly empty. Max glanced around once, his eyes taking in the worn rug and cheap furniture. The pay phone was on the opposite end of the room, squeezed in between a neon yellow arm chair and a shiny, fake-wood table.

"What kind of motel doesn't have phones in each individual room?" Kyle grumbled as he walked forward.

"The kind that lets you pay in cash and doesn't ask too many questions," Max replied.

Jim Valenti picked up on the second ring, answering in a clipped tone. "Yes? This is Sheriff Valenti." He sounded exhausted, and nervous, and even through the phone lines Max could tell immediately that something was wrong.

"It's Max," Max answered as Kyle leaned closer to the phone, listening to the conversation.

"Max! What's going on? I've been trying to call you repeatedly now, but your cell phone…"

"We had to get rid of them," Max interrupted, thinking of the mangled pieces of his cell phone that he'd dumped in a garbage can at one of the generic rest stops they had passed through on their way to Michigan. "It's a long story. But why were you trying to reach us?"

There was a pause, then Jim asked in a newer, softer tone, "You don't know?"

"Don't know what?" Max demanded, dread filling him. He caught Kyle's eye and the two of them waited with abated breath for an answer they knew they weren't going to like.

"Max… I'm sorry. Your mother… she… she's dead."

The phone slipped through his suddenly limp grasp, but Kyle caught it deftly, lifting it to his ear. Max was only partially aware of the conversation that passed between father and son. All he could hear were the quietly uttered words, Jim's news, repeating over and over in his head. How could his mother be dead?

"Was it FBI?" he asked finally, forcing out the words. They sounded strange, hoarse and choked and foreign, even to his own ear. It was as though someone else was speaking, using a rough approximation of his voice.

Kyle dutifully repeated the question to his father, and Max leaned closer to hear the answer.

"I don't think so. There was nothing normal… nothing human… about the fire that killed her."

Max inhaled sharply. "Skins?"

"I think so. Max… I'm sorry."

Max nodded, even though Jim couldn't see the answer, and lapsed into silence. His mother was dead, murdered by skins, and he'd never even _told_ her. She didn't know the truth, didn't know why she'd been attacked, why she'd died. Had she been scared? Had she begged, pleaded for her life? Had she tried to fight back?

Did it matter?

She would never have stood a chance against the skins.

"Why did you think it was FBI?" Jim asked, and Max numbly reached out and took the phone back from Kyle so that he could answer the question.

"They came after us. After me, more specifically. They know all about us. They knows things that I don't even… I can't imagine how they learned them and…" He stopped, closed his eyes for a moment and pictured the faces of Agent White and Agent Walker. "We had to leave. That's why we destroyed our cell phones and… we're just trying to disappear."

He slammed his fist into the wall suddenly, angry. It wasn't like they didn't know the skins were on Earth. The epidemic swiftly spreading through New York City, courtesy of an unknown alien virus… how many times had that exact event started the war? How could he not have known what was coming? How could he not have thought to warn his parents the minute they saw people getting sick…

"Are you alright? All of you? Tess? Abby?" Jim asked anxiously.

"Yeah, we're all fine," Max replied, rubbing the back of his head absently and looking around the room again. Kyle was sagging against the wall, staring blankly at the air in front of him, and Max felt just as incredibly tired.

"What are you going to do now?" Jim asked.

"I don't know," Max admitted reluctantly. Tears slowly formed in his eyes, a delayed reaction as the reality of the situation settled over him with an undeniably cruel pressure.

His mother was…

Oh, _God_.

"My… my Dad?" he asked, forcing the question even though some part of him did not want to know the answer.

"He's okay. He's just trying to figure out why he can't get in touch with you and Isabel. Max… I haven't told him anything yet, but… but I'm going to need to. He knows the fire wasn't an accident, and I don't know how much longer I can… I was waiting for you guys to get here and tell him, but I just… I don't know if I can wait."

"You can't," Max said. "The fire… it will attract attention. The FBI will come and… and maybe other skins. Or there could even be skins there now… or Khivar…" He stopped again, gathering together his scattered thoughts. How could this be happening?

"What do you want me to do?"

Max swallowed uneasily. "I… We need to fight back. The war has started and we need to… we need to _fight_." He blinked, reached up with one hand and wiped away the tears that slipped from his eyes. His cheeks were wet, and his heart constricted even further with the realization that pretty soon he would need to walk up those stairs and tell Isabel and…

And he wasn't sure he could do it. How was he supposed to look his sister in the eye and tell her that their mother was dead, murdered because of _them_?

"What exactly happened?" he asked. "With my Mom… how did she…" He couldn't finish the sentence, didn't really want to be asking for the details. But he had to know, had to hear…

It was like some kind of morbid penance, and he couldn't let it go. He was the reason she was dead, and the least he could do was serve as some sort of tribute, listening to the details so that someone in the future would remember what had happened to her.

Someone would know the truth.

There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the line, then Jim said, "I'm not exactly sure. The house… it looked like she put up a fight. A big one. Things were knocked over, a couple of the walls had been almost completely destroyed. But the fire… it burned everything, so we couldn't get any real evidence. It was… eerie. I can't explain it, just… it wasn't normal. Too much blue and white mixed in with the orange flames, I guess."

"My Mom fought back?" Max breathed, unsure if that made him feel better or worse.

"We think so." Another long pause, then, "Max… you still haven't told me what you want me to do. Your father is asking questions, and if the skins come back…"

"You need to get my Dad, and Alex and Liz's parents, and Maria's mother out of Roswell," Max said. "I don't care how you do it, but you need to get out before the skins come back."

"I have to tell them _something_," Jim protested.

"Tell them the truth. That we have enemies, and those enemies are targeting our families and…" _and I'm sorry. And I never wanted this to happen_. "And that we'll explain everything as soon as we get there."

"Get where? Max, where are we even going to _go_?"

"It doesn't matter," Max answered. "Just get out of Roswell. I'll call you again when I have a plan."

He handed the phone to Kyle, giving the jock another chance to talk to his father. Then he sank onto the floor, leaning back against the wall and pulling his knees into his chest. Tilting his head up towards the ceiling, he imagined Isabel in the rooms above them, completely unaware that he was about to shatter her life.

* * *

They were attacked two days later, at a fast good restaurant outside of Rockford, Wisconsin. It came out of nowhere, and took them all by surprise, though it really shouldn't have. They could evade the FBI as long as they stayed on the run, but the skins were an entirely different matter.

They went after Abby, first.

Tess was asleep in the van, and they'd all left her there, deciding she probably needed the sleep. Kyle was holding his daughter, bouncing her up and down as they stood in line. She was chewing on her hair, and fighting a losing battle to stay awake. Michael and Maria had already placed their orders and were waiting in a booth near the back of the room, and Alex and Isabel were standing, hand in hand, near the closest cash register. Max stepped away from them, turning his back for a moment to grab a tray and a few packets of ketchup, and he heard Liz shout.

"Get away from her!"

He spun around to see an old woman cooing at Abby, ruffling her hair and smiling. His first thought was that Liz had completely lost it, that the stress of the last several days had somehow unhinged her. There was nothing even remotely threatening about the old woman, who looked up at them with a baffled expression.

Then he noticed that Liz had just brushed her arm against the woman's shoulder as she tried to squeeze past.

And all it took was a single touch for Liz to get a premonition.

Kyle seemed to reach the same conclusion as well, because he spun around and shoved the woman backwards, away from him. Abby started to squirm, tears appearing in her eyes.

"My dear, are you alright?" the old woman asked, reaching over to pat Liz on the arm. "I was just admiring that adorable little child. I wasn't going to hurt her."

"Yeah," Liz snapped, "you _were_."

For a moment, no one did anything. Then the woman looked at Liz, her gentle eyes hardening into something dangerous, something very much inhuman, and she flung out her hand towards Kyle, a burst of energy exploding from her palm.

Max only just managed to get his shield up in time. The explosion hit the force-field, and Max felt tremors run up his arm and the strength of the woman's attack, but though the shield wavered, it did not fall.

Kyle moved backwards, breathless, clutching Abby even more tightly as the young girl began to scream.

Michael, coming upon the scene from the other side, lifted one hand and sent the old woman flying. She slammed into the counter and slid to the floor, blood spreading across the large gash that had appeared on her back. Her eyes closed, and Max didn't know whether she was dead or merely unconscious.

He didn't really care, either.

The desperate reality of the situation hit him as he looked around and noticed that several of the fast food restaurant patrons had risen to their feet and were advancing on him, eyes filled with matching expressions of triumph. There were about ten skins, which at least meant they weren't too badly outnumbered. But they had Abby to worry about, and the skins were clearly benefiting from the element of surprise.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't the precious King Zan and his band of pathetic followers," a man sneered.

Max swallowed uneasily. He could wrap his shield around himself, Liz, Kyle, and Abby, but that wouldn't protect Isabel and Alex or Michael and Maria.

And oh, God, what if they'd seen Tess asleep in the car? What if they…

His thoughts were cut off by a groan of pain, and Liz dropped to her knees, head in her hands. Max was at her side in a moment, his shield still remaining as a barrier between them and the enemy, even as he caught sight of Michael and Isabel both join in the fight.

Liz was shaking. Her fingers were woven tightly into her hair and her breath came in short, sharp gasps. But it was her eyes that scared him the most.

They were red.

Not red-rimmed and bloodshot, as though she had been crying. Pure, brilliant red, like cherries and fire trucks and…

Blood.

He had no idea what was happening to her, or who was doing it, He looked up, squinting through the suddenly ferocious battle. He could see several innocent humans crouched behind the counter and underneath the tables in the booths, unable to comprehend what was happening all around them. Through the shimmering green of his force-field, he saw Isabel and Michael fighting back to back, and Maria and Alex struggling against another skin with the back against their walls.

The air was filled with the acrid smell of blood, but he didn't know who it belonged to. Something hit him from behind and he fell, his shield going down with him, and suddenly the world was tinted with black and gray and he could barely keep his eyes open. He tasted blood in his mouth and rolled over in time to see the skin standing over him lifted his hand, electricity jumping at his fingertips.

"Max! _NO_!"

He recognized the scream, knew it was Isabel, even though it seemed to echo around him, dislodged in such a way that he could not tell where she was. Instinct took over and he lifted both hands, a flood of energy pouring out of them and into the air, crackling with intensity.

The skin was blown off his feet, and Max crawled to his knees even as another opponent moved forward.

He saw Kyle standing in a corner, Abby on the floor behind him. He was doing everything possible to keep the skins away from his daughter, but he was cornered, trapped by three advancing enemy aliens who seemed intent on reaching Abby, and killing anyone that stood in their path.

Liz was writhing on the floor, blood pooling in the corner of her mouth, and Max didn't know what to do, didn't know how he could possible protect Abby and Liz at the same time. But as he hesitated, one of the skins landed a blow on Kyle and the jock fell to the ground, leaving Abby unprotected and…

"Enough! Stop it!"

Max turned at the sound of the command and watched in shock as the unwelcome, yet unfortunately familiar, alien stepped into the fast food restaurant and extended both arms, conjuring what appeared to be a giant fireball that hovered in the air in front of her. And then somehow, in ways Max couldn't understand, it suddenly spread out, filling the entire room and killing every skin it touched.

But leaving the three hybrids, the four humans, and the little girl sobbing in the corner completely untouched.

The air still sizzled with the heat of the now extinguished fire, and the innocent humans who had hidden behind the counter and underneath the tables were dead, their bodies sprawled lifelessly at odd angles. They apparently had not been protected from the fire.

Max looked again at the blonde standing in the doorway.

"Courtney?"

* * *

"You killed all those humans!"

"I saved your lives. A simple _thank you_ would suffice."

"_Thank you_? You want us to thank you? What the hell are you even doing here, you traitorous…"

"I'm saving your life. And if you want to make it out of this town alive, you're going to damn well listen to what I have to say because you've got skins crawling all over this God-forsaken place and they will kill you in a heartbeat. Do you _want_ to die?"

"Alright, enough!" Max said angrily, cutting into the argument.

They were gathered around the van, several miles from the ruins of the fast food diner. They'd left as quickly as they could, wanting to put as much space between themselves and the scene of the fight as possible. It was only a matter of time before the police showed up, and then the FBI, and Max didn't really want to think about what assumptions those people would make.

Michael was pacing, his steps agitated, his dark gaze fixed threateningly on Courtney. Maria was hovering around an injured Liz. Max had been able to heal most of the damage, but the brunette was still weak, and could barely stand on her own. He didn't know what the skins had done to her, but he knew if they'd survived Courtney's attack, he'd have hunted them down himself.

Alex was sitting on the edge of one of the seats in the van, his legs swinging over the edge and into the open door. Isabel stood next to him, eyeing Courtney with distrust and dislike. Tess was holding Abby. She'd been unnoticed in the van, and had only woken up after Courtney had gotten there, and so was the only one who hadn't joined in the fight. Kyle was standing behind her, his expression unreadable.

"How did you know where to find us?" Max asked.

"I didn't," Courtney replied with a shrug. "I was tracking the skins. Guess you just got lucky."

"Yeah. Right. _Lucky_," Maria snorted quietly.

"How did you...? _What_ did you do?"

"The fire thing?" Courtney glanced at Isabel, who had asked the question. "I've had my powers since long before you were born, Isabel. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve you don't know about."

"Yeah, that much we could have guessed," Michael spat. "And all those humans? You killed them. Why?"

"Look, controlling fire isn't easy, and it makes it even harder when you're trying to get it to kill a whole bunch of people and leave some others unharmed. I knew I couldn't protect everyone in there, I don't have that kind of strength. I doubt even Khivar does, and he's got powers you couldn't even _dream _of. So I protected the people I knew I absolutely had to. All of you."

"And you didn't even try to save…" Liz started, appalled, but Courtney cut her off.

"And risk expending too much strength and not being able to control the fire properly? I had to conserve my energy for the people who matter. I wasn't willing to take the chance that I'd screw it up and you'd all die. If I wanted that, I'd have just the other skins kill you." Max glared at Courtney, and she threw her hands up in the air and said in frustration, "You don't like it. I get that, I really do. But guess what? It's a war, and if you die, Khivar's going to win. And you've seen enough hellish futures to know that you _don't_ want that. It doesn't benefit anyone on this planet for you to sacrifice yourselves on some pathetically noble idea of morals."

"Morals are hardly pathetic," Maria argued.

Courtney rolled her eyes. "No. But they are in a war. There is only one rule that matters, Maria. And that's survive. No matter the means."

"I don't believe that," Isabel said.

Courtney glanced at her. "Then you'll die."

"Is that a threat?" Michael snarled.

"No," Courtney answered. "It's a warning. And a fact." Turning to Max, she added, "Look, I left Roswell, just like you asked me to. But in that little speech you gave all those years ago about how I was supposed to leave you alone, you did say that I could stay on Earth and fight the skins if I wanted. So I am, and I'm doing it my way. I've been tracking those particular skins for a while, and that's why I was at the diner. Not for any other reason."

"Why did the skins go after Liz and Abby?" It wasn't the question Max had meant to ask, but it fell from his lips before he could stop it. He'd been in that diner and he'd seen the way they'd gravitated towards his fiancée and the little girl, and he knew there had to be a reason for it.

"Khivar doesn't want you to have a kid," Courtney answered. "That should be obvious. If you've an heir, his job becomes a whole lot more difficult. Now, he's mostly afraid of any kid you'd have with Tess, but still… he's also pretty confidant you aren't going to sleep with her. And if you had a kid with Liz, that baby wouldn't be as much of an issue, since it would be only the child of the King and not of the King and Queen, but hey… still your kid. Still a threat."

"But then shouldn't he be trying to kill me?" Max questioned.

"You're hard to kill," Courtney said, "but Liz? She's not. And Khivar's guessing that you won't go screw anyone else since Liz Parker is your precious soul mate and all that crap. With her out of the picture, that great fear of his – your heir – is effectively no longer an issue. So yeah, I'd say he has a pretty good incentive for wanting her dead."

"And Abby?" Tess asked quietly. "Why her? What does he want with her?"

Courtney glanced at Tess for a long moment, then sighed. She looked almost upset, as though she didn't want to be the one to deliver this particular bit of information. But Max had long since determined that he couldn't trust her. And that he didn't care about her emotions.

"She's human," Courtney said simply. "And Khivar doesn't like that."

"Why?" Kyle demanded.

"Humans are weak. Pathetic. Useless," Courtney answered with a shrug. "Tess' child shouldn't be entirely human."

"It's science," Liz argued weakly, still leaning heavily against Max. "Tess is half-human and Kyle is fully human, even if he has alien powers now. They both have the DNA, it makes perfect sense."

Courtney rolled her eyes. "And if this was a logic contest, you'd win the prize, Liz. But it isn't a logic contest. It's a war, and Khivar doesn't want it to be known that Antarian DNA _isn't_ completely dominant. He's spent decades convincing our planet that we're superior to humans. That your human halves make you weak, that Antarian DNA will always win out in the end. That's it's stronger, biologically. By his argument, Tess' alien DNA should have won out, no matter what."

"But why does it matter?" Michael pressed, clearly not understanding. And he wasn't the only one. Max, too, couldn't figure out why this mattered, and it was apparent from the faces of everyone around him that they were all confused as well.

"Because he's spent the last fifty years telling his people that a pure, full-blooded Antarian needs to sit on the throne. His entire argument for not giving up his position is based on that. His loyal followers, well… they'll follow him no matter what. But he needs more than that. He needs to convince all the people who don't really care either way. The people who just want to live their lives, and are going to support whoever helps them do that. Khivar's spent decades telling them that he's stronger than you, Max. Stronger, smarter, wiser… all around better. And not just because Zan was a lousy king. Also because you're half human."

"And humans are weak," Liz murmured, echoing what Courtney had said earlier.

"Exactly. If he had to admit to being wrong… he's got a tenuous hold on his throne as it is, and fifty years of civil war isn't helping. He can't afford this. He can't afford having his followers start to doubt."

"So… so he's focusing his efforts on killing Liz and Abby instead of the four of us?" Michael asked, shaking his head.

"Oh, don't feel left out," Courtney said mockingly, "you four are still his number one aim." She glanced at Liz, then turned back to Michael and explained, "Liz is human. Which means that, even though she has powers now, she'll never be as strong as the four of you. She doesn't have the alien DNA for it. She acquired the gifts, she wasn't born with them, and when it comes to power, that difference does actually matter. And Abby's just a kid, a baby, completely unable to defend herself. So they're both far easier to kill then the four of you. And Khivar needs a victory. This war's been going on for too long."

"Has it? Really? I hadn't noticed," Maria said sarcastically.

"Is that why he attacked Maria two years ago? Because she's easier to kill?" Alex questioned softly, and Max saw Michael stiffen. Liz's gaze snapped up, and Maria gave Courtney a piercing look, curious about the answer to that. They hadn't known why the dupes and the skins had gone after Maria. They still didn't know that. And Courtney might not be trustworthy, but if she could shed any light on that issue...

Courtney smirked. "He ran into a bit of a problem two years back. With other members of my faction. We were gaining popularity, people wanted Rath to be given a chance. Under Zan, we got war and destruction. Under Khivar, we seem to be getting much the same. So the idea of new blood..." She gave Michael a thin smile and looked him up and down. "They were excited to try it. To try anything, because so far, nothing had ended this war."

"They went after Maria because of me?" Michael said bluntly.

Courtney frowned at him. "Wasn't that obvious? Even if you didn't know the exact reason, you had to suspect that it was because of her association with you. Why else would Khivar waste precious time and resources on a mere human?" she pointed out contemptuously.

Maria bristled.

Courtney ignored the blonde's anger and pressed on with her explanation. "Kill Maria, Michael is devastated. He goes crazy, looks for revenge, and most likely does something reckless and stupid, thereby leaving himself open to get killed." She inhaled slowly, then said in a warning tone, "Khivar knows you. He knows how you think, how you react to situations. He knows how to make you _hurt_. And he will. Of course, his plan didn't work out, given that Maria is alive and all that. So he opted not to try again, but to focus on something else. To keep you always guessing, always unsure. So that you can never form any plan of attack against him, because you can't guess what his next move will be." She gave Max a long, serious look. "I'm sure this goes without saying, but don't underestimate him. Khivar is damn good at what he does. He knows how to fight a war. He knows how to win."

"Why the long breaks in between attacks?" Max demanded.

Courtney shrugged. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to run a planet?" Then she dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "Of course not. You've never done it. But it takes a lot of time and energy, particularly when that planet is in the middle of a bloody civil war and falling apart at the seems. He can't always focus all his attention on you." She paused, seeming to think about something, and then said, "Of course, that has changed now. He's starting the big one. What he hopes will be the last battle. He's getting together his army, and when he finds you, he's going to crush you."

A dead silence met those words.

"Anyway," Courtney said at last, "if we're done with this whole chat, I've got work to do. Enemies to hunt down and kill."

"So that's it? You're just going to leave?" Max asked skeptically. He desperately wanted Courtney out of their lives once more, but he found it hard to believe that she would simply walk away from them, with no ulterior motive.

"Oh, don't worry," Courtney said with a grim smile, "I have a feeling we're going to be crossing paths again."


	27. The Twelfth Dimension II: Nonexistence 2

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: This chapter takes place over the course of a couple months, so pay attention to the time changes.

* * *

The Twelfth Dimension II: Nonexistence (part two)

_Whole areas of knowledge and information have been defined into nonexistence because the system cannot know, understand, control, or measure them._

_- Anne Wilson Schaef_

They reached Nevada in less than three days, and Max didn't stop to wonder how many speed limits they'd broken. It didn't matter, not really, not as long as they didn't get caught. The weight of Courtney's words, of her explanations and warnings, rested heavily over all of them, and the silence in the van was tense and uneasy.

The rendezvous point was not difficult to find, but Max was a little unsure as to what exactly would be waiting for him. Had the Sheriff gotten his father and the others out of Roswell? He hadn't called to find out, as much as he had desperately wanted to know. It was too dangerous, with both the skins and the FBI after him, he just couldn't take that chance. Not yet.

And some part of him, he had to admit, was also a little scared. Scared of what his father might think and say, if he knew the truth. If he knew what Max really was, and why Diane had really died.

He pulled the car into the parking lot of the motel and glanced at the building. Another nondescript location, nothing out of the ordinary. Something twisted sharply in his stomach, but he took a deep breath and pushed open the door of the car.

As they emerged from the vehicle, the doors of the motel were pushed open, and Philip Evans came walking out. He looked haggard, and far older than Max remembered. The lines in his face had grown deeper, and the weariness in his eyes was so out of place that Max felt his own guilt grow.

Behind Philip, the doors opened again, and this time Jim Valenti and Amy DeLuca stepped out. They blinked a few times in the bright sunlight, and everyone seemed frozen. It was like some kind of stand-off, and Max didn't know the rules or who was supposed to speak first.

It didn't matter, though, because Isabel suddenly darted forward. "Daddy," she practically whimpered, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tears in her eyes.

Philip hugged her for a moment, then pulled back so that he could study her face. "Are you… alright?" he asked, and his tone was odd and strained.

Max glanced quickly at Jim, who shrugged sympathetically. Max let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His father knew the truth.

"Not really," Isabel said, answering her father's question. "I… Mom…" And then she stopped, unable to go on, and the edge in Philip's eyes faded completely as he pulled her into a fierce embrace.

"I know," he said. "I know, sweetie."

"Are my parents here, too?" Liz asked, coming to Max's side and glancing quickly at Jim. The Sheriff suddenly looked uncomfortable, and he shook his head, eyes darting quickly to Amy.

"Liz…" Amy started, but Liz interrupted, her voice clouded with fear.

"Are they alright? Did something happen?"

Instinctively, Max reached out and gripped Liz's hand as tightly as he could. His breath caught in his throat, and he wanted to say something, but no words would come. All he could do was stand there and wait for Jim to deliver the news… whatever it may be.

"They refused to come with us," Amy answered. She looked past Liz, towards Maria, and extended one hand. It was all the welcoming Maria needed, and she hurried towards her mother and hugged her tightly. And though Amy returned the hug, she switched her focus back to Liz.

"Why would they do that?" Liz asked.

"They didn't believe me," Jim answered. He blinked a few times, and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Liz. I tried, Amy and I both did, but… I think they're in denial. They didn't believe. Wouldn't believe. They said it was all…" He stopped and shrugged again, looking at a complete loss for what to say.

It honestly didn't surprise Max that Liz's parents would refuse to see the truth. It did, however, surprise him that they wouldn't at least come to find their daughter, who had supposedly been missing for several days.

As though Amy knew what he was thinking, she said quickly, "They think Liz is just taking a vacation or something. They don't… if they thought you were in danger, Liz, I'm sure they would have come. But they just…"

"We'll go to Roswell," Max said abruptly, looking at the brunette beside him. She was standing stiffly, her entire body tense and her expression unreadable, and he knew just how difficult this was for her to accept. Her own parents hadn't come, hadn't believed that anything was wrong. And while she couldn't really blame them for that when they had been given no proof…

It still had to hurt. Had to feel like some sort of betrayal.

"We'll go to Roswell," he said again. "We'll make them believe."

"Alex, your parents are inside," Amy said, turning to the computer geek.

Alex nodded once, squeezed Liz's shoulder, gave Isabel a quick kiss on the cheek, and slipped past the group and into the motel to find his parents. Jim, meanwhile, walked over to Kyle and Tess, who were standing near the back of the group. Max watched for a moment as he leaned down to kiss Tess on the cheek and clap Kyle on the back, and then eagerly scooped up his granddaughter and held her close. They started talking, Jim and Kyle and Tess, but Max couldn't hear the words, and didn't really want to listen anyway.

He looked back at his father.

The whole interaction had been tense and almost formal. He hadn't really expected anything in particular, but this awkward feeling, this insecurity, was making it hard for him to focus on the issue at hand.

"You know," he said after a moment.

Philip nodded once. Then he muttered, "Jim told us. A couple days ago. I… we refused to wait until you got here. We wanted answers."

Liz leaned against Max's side. He held her, pulling her in close. He wasn't sure if he was trying to offer her comfort, or he was trying to draw comfort from her. He supposed it didn't really matter. They were in this together, and that was the most important thing.

Max was dimly aware of Maria and Amy walking away from the group, heading towards the motel. He knew Liz was watching them, her eyes fixed on Maria, and probably feeling some kind of jealousy. Maria had her mother and right now, Liz didn't have either parents.

"It wasn't the way we wanted you to find out," Isabel murmured.

Philip gave a harsh laugh. "Yeah. It wasn't the way I wanted to find out, either."

"I'm sorry about Mom," Isabel continued, her voice dry and shaky. "I… we never wanted… it wasn't…"

"Hey, you listen to me," Philip said, his face suddenly stern. "It wasn't your fault. Okay? You're not to blame for what happened to your mother."

"How can you say that?" Isabel questioned, now almost sobbing. "You _know_ what happened."

"Yes, I do. And I've had a couple days to think about this and…" Philip hesitated, looking over at Max. "I'm not going to lie and say that I'm okay with this. That it doesn't scare me a little to know my children aren't completely human. But you're still my children. You're still _her_ children. And I know your mother would have given anything in the world for you. No matter the fact that you're part alien. So this wasn't your fault. This was your enemies' fault, and that's it. Okay?"

"It's not that simple," Max said. And it wasn't, not really. He should have been able to do more. Except, of course, that he had no idea what he could have done to protect his mother. Even if she knew the truth, she would still have been in danger. She was human, and the skins were aliens, and she couldn't fight them. Not really.

"Yes, it is," Philip answered. "We're a family, Max. And if you're in this mess, than I'm in it, too. We'll figure this out, together. But you have to know that your mother wouldn't have blamed you for what happened."

It should have been comforting to Max, but it wasn't. Because he knew, no matter what his father said, that they _couldn't_ be in this together. That it would just end up getting his father killed.

And he didn't think he could deal with that.

* * *

"_Can I have a minute of your time?"_

_The redhead looked up in surprise at the man who stood before her. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the badge in his hand, then she slowly raised a troubled gaze to his face. "Sure," she said, worried. "Is everything alright?"_

"_How would you define alright?" the man replied. The woman hesitated again, and he said with a disarming smile, "I just need to ask you a few questions. I promise it won't take long."_

"_Why would the FBI want to talk to me?" she asked._

_He flashed an almost feral smile, and a shiver ran down her spine. "Shall we go somewhere more private?"_

In the darkness of the motel room, Max awoke with a start. His head ached, a dull throb that slowly built behind his eyes. Leaning back against the pillow, he twisted slightly so he could watch Liz sleep. She was curled on her side, leaning in towards him, her face resting right next to his shoulder.

He reached out and looped his arm over her, and she snuggled into the blankets with a sigh.

She looked so peaceful, and he wondered how she would react when he told her what he had dreamt. Wondered what she would say when he informed her that the FBI had apparently taken an interest in Serena.

He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling slowly, his mind running back over the past two months. The meeting with his father had gone well, better than he had expected. He had been able to see the reservations in his father's face, the fear and unease that would never completely fade, but likewise, he had seen the truth shinning brightly every time his father stated the simple fact that they were family.

And that, more than anything, was why Max had decided it was best if they split up. That decision had come two months ago, only about a week after meeting up with Philip, and it hadn't gone over well.

Maria had been angry, Alex had been worried, Isabel had been dumbfounded. The three of them had put up the most resistance to the idea. Liz hadn't really cared one way or another, and Michael didn't have anyone there to lose. And Kyle and Tess, surprisingly, had simply nodded in agreement with Max's decision.

Max had been more than a little stunned at that, and had asked them later why they hadn't fought against him. It was Kyle's answer, blunt and straightforward, that had also convinced the others that this was the best plan.

_I've got to keep Abby safe. I've got to keep myself and Tess safe. And we all have to be together, for obvious reasons. But my Dad doesn't need to be with us, and I know I can focus on keeping myself, Tess, and our daughter alive a lot better if I'm not also worried about my Dad._

And so, finally, Philip had agreed to the plan, as had Jim. They'd dragged Amy and the Whitmans with them, and they, too, were living on the run. Max didn't know where they were, only that they were far safer now than they ever could have been if they'd stayed.

He talked to his Dad once a week, usually through Isabel's dream-walking abilities. It wasn't enough, not really, but it was the most they could hope for. And, after all, they had other problems.

Like the country going up in flames.

New York was a mess.

The virus had wiped out so much of the population, and everyone still alive had fled the city, rushing as far away as they could. Conspiracy theories ran rampant through the state, and people sought refuge in neighboring towns that soon fell pray to the virus as well. The entire state was on the brink of being eradicated, and though the virus had yet to spread to any other state, people were still worried.

And then, of course, there were Liz's parents.

Max looked over at Liz as he thought of them, his heart clenching painfully. They hadn't gone back to Roswell. There hadn't been a reason, not anymore. The day after meeting up with Philip and the others, they read of an explosion at a small diner in a tiny desert town and they knew… the Crashdown was gone.

And so were Nancy and Jeff Parker.

Exhaustion settled over Max once more, and he rolled over in the bed, his last thought was that he really needed to start sleeping through the night, and then he drifted off again.

"_Serena? Everything alright?"_

_The redhead looked up as Jesse entered the apartment, his coat hanging over his arm. "You didn't answer when I knocked."_

_She blinked a couple times, then shrugged and looked down at the phone in her hand. "Must not have heard you," she muttered, distracted. "I can't get anyone on the phone. It's like they've just fallen off the face of the planet."_

_Jesse ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the door. "This about Liz?" he asked, even though it was obvious he knew the answer._

'_She's gone," Serena snapped, jerking her head up angrily. "Jesse, she's just… it's been over two months, and she's just gone. All of them. Her, Max, Isabel, Alex."_

"_Maybe they went on a vacation," Jesse suggested._

_Serena rolled her eyes. "Without telling anyone? Without taking their cell phones? You know they wouldn't do that." _

_Jesse sat down on the edge of the sofa and frowned. "New York had practically emptied. That virus… anyone who didn't die had enough common sense to flee. You know Liz had friends in New York. Really good friends. Maybe she's trying to help them get settled in somewhere else. Maybe she's trying to help them keep their heads above water right now. People lost everything when they left the city, and the place is just chaos now."_

_She hesitated, glancing about furtively, before replying, "The FBI was at work today, Jesse. Asking questions. About _them_."_

"_What did they ask?" Jesse questioned, leaning forward with a gleam in his eyes. "And what did you say?"_

_Serena shrugged. "They wanted to know if I had heard anything from Liz. And I told them the truth. That I hadn't. I didn't know where she was."_

_She sank into the nearest chair and reached for a photograph on the coffee table. It was a picture taken about six months ago, and showed Liz and Serena standing by the Boston Harbor. Liz was pointing at something, and Serena was laughing in response to whatever the brunette was saying._

_She had only known Liz for a couple years, but they had become very good friends. In fact, she felt closer to the somewhat enigmatic brunette than she did to many of the friends she'd known for much longer. She'd mentioned it to Liz once, and the other woman had just smiled and said something about how some friendships were just meant to be._

_And now she had no idea if Liz was even alive._

"_Well," Jesse said finally, "if you really don't know where Liz is…"_

"_I don't," Serena cut in emphatically._

"_Then you're of no more use to me," Jesse continued. She looked up at him, and the last thing she saw was him wave his hand before everything when dark._

Max jackknifed in bed, sitting up sharply and unceremoniously shoving Liz away from him in the process. She rolled over and groaned, eyelids fluttering open, but he barely even noticed. His headache was worse, much worse, exploding behind his eyes with an intense pain.

He jammed the palms of his hands into his eyes, hoping that it would stop, but the image of Serena's surprised expression flashed through his mind, and he exhaled sharply and something twisted in his chest.

"Max?" Liz murmured sleepily. "What's wrong?"

He didn't – _couldn't_ – answer. The words stuck in his throat, and he simply gazed at Liz in silence.

Serena was dead.

Pushing the blankets from his body, he scrambled to his feet and started pacing, agitated steps that took him back and forth across the floor. Liz was fully awake now, and she stared at him with wide eyes and something akin to fear.

"Max?"

He spun towards her, forcing words from between dry lips, "It's Serena."

Liz sat up in the bed, pulling the blankets tightly around her. "Was it a dream?" she inquired, and Max knew that wasn't the question she had wanted to ask. In her eyes, he saw the real question, a demand to know if Serena was alright.

How could he tell her that she wasn't? How could he tell her that Serena had been killed… by a skin.

A skin in Jesse's body.

"It was more than just a dream," he said finally. "It was… it was a vision, I guess. Like when I saw Maria being attacked…" He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "A warning, maybe. But it is too late to stop it now. It's already happened."

"What? What's happened?" There was a new urgency in Liz's voice, a desperation.

Max opened his eyes and looked at her again. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She folded in on herself, knowing instinctively what the words meant, and her eyes swam with tears. He took a faltering step towards her, then stopped and shook his head, looked away. He could see Serena's face in his mind, picture it perfectly the way it had looked moment's before her death. He could feel her surprise, her fear.

"How?" Liz choked out the word.

Max ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the foot of the bed. "The FBI was asking questions. About us. And Jesse… he asked her what she had told the FBI, and she told him that she didn't have any information, that she hadn't been able to tell the agent who was questioning her where any of us were and… and Jesse said that if she didn't know anything, she wasn't of any use to him and…"

He trailed off and Liz nodded uneasily. "Are you thinking… Khivar?"

He nodded. It made sense, in a sick and rather twisted sort of way. Jesse had been Khivar's host at one point, had housed the skin king's essence during his failed attempt to convince Isabel to return to Antar with him. Larek always returned to the same body – Brody Davis – so it would make sense that Khivar would as well.

Serena didn't know the truth. Just like his mother. How many people would be killed because of them, never even knowing why?

The burden of their deaths fell heavily over him. This future was supposed to be better. With all their knowledge of the other futures, with the warnings they had received, they were supposed to be able to make it better.

"Was she worried about us?" Liz asked tentatively, pulling Max from his gloomy thoughts. "I wanted to leave her a note of some kind. Wanted to… I wanted to explain. I mean, she would have been so _confused_ as to why we would all just disappear, and it's been months and I just…"

"Yes, she was worried," Max answered. "She…" he stopped, shrugged. "She was your friend."

"Why? Why did we have to be friends. I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have let her get caught up in this. It's so stupid and it put her in danger and we should have _known_ that this could happen," Liz muttered, her words rushing together. She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, brushing away the tears.

"Liz…" Max started, but she didn't let him finish. She pressed on, and it was almost a relief, because what could he have said to her anyway?

"I mean, I just thought we were supposed to be friends. I thought it was for the best, because we were friends in every other timeline and I really liked her, but I didn't think about the danger or the risk. I didn't think about what it could do to her, I just assumed it was meant to be and what if… what if it _wasn't_? What if we should never have become friends? I mean, she's dead now, because of us."

There was some truth to her words, and Max knew that. She had mostly sought out Serena because she thought that it was supposed to happen that way. After all, Serena had simply shown up on their doorstep with Jesse, and how were they supposed to know that this would happen?

Unbidden, Max thought of Isabel's fears of being with Alex. She had spent so long pushing Alex away, insisting that they shouldn't be together because she was afraid that the attraction she felt to him – and to Jesse – wasn't real, but rather simply there because it was what she thought she was _supposed_ to feel. And wasn't this the same? Hadn't Liz worked for their friendship because of what she knew of the other futures?  
Would she have tried to be friends with Serena if she knew nothing at all about all the other timelines?

Thinking of the timelines, though, made Max think nervously about something else. In every timeline, it had been Serena who had explained to them how the Granolith could be used to alter history. It was Serena who had used her knowledge of physics and science to alter the mechanics of the… whatever that thing was… so that it would take Max back in time.

And now she was dead. And they didn't know how to use the Granolith.

Which meant that this was it, this timeline was the last chance they would ever get. If they screwed it up… then they would have to live with the consequences of that. Permanently.

* * *

They squabbled in the van. Little disagreements turned into full-blown arguments, and more often then not someone was sulking and several people weren't speaking to each other. The constant running, the cramped confines of the van, the stress and guilt and fear that never quite left… it hung over all of them, dampening their spirits, pulling at the rapidly fraying bonds that held them together.

Sometimes, Max forgot. He'd forget that he loved Liz more than anything in the world, that Isabel was his sister and he couldn't imagine life without her, that Michael was his best friend and had come through for him on almost every occasion. But it wasn't always the big things he forgot. Sometimes he forgot the smaller ones, the way Tess' eyes would light up mischievously right before some witty comment left her lips, or the way Maria could laugh at nothing in particular and break the tension in the room. He forgot the comfortingly familiar way Alex would spout off information like a walking encyclopedia, and Kyle would roll his eyes and mutter something about computer geeks under his breath.

He simply forgot.

In the moment, with the weight of the world – two worlds – resting on his shoulders and the constant arguments steadfastly eating away at his resolve, he'd think only of the anger and frustration and pain, and wonder, once again, why he was even doing any of this.

He knew he wasn't the only one who felt that way. He wasn't the only one who forgot. They all did, and it was slowly driving them apart. Quietly enough that no one really noticed, but firmly enough to leave a sense of unease in the air.

And Max knew, deep down, that it wouldn't take much to completely sever those ties. Some part of him was anticipating it, as much as he didn't want to face the inevitable. Some part of him knew it was inevitable, that the day would come when they'd be pushed too far, too fast, and they wouldn't be able to find their way back.

He just didn't realize how _soon_ that day would come.

* * *

In the darkness of the motel room, Max woke to the sound of Isabel screaming. It came in through the walls, filling the air, and he was out of bed before he even fully registered what was happening. Liz, too, was scrambling to her feet, and both of them were rushing into the hallway, towards the noise.

Michael was there as well, pushing the door open to Isabel's room. Maria was further back, and Max caught sight of Tess emerging from her own room, but he did not spare them much more than a cursory glance. His focus and all of his thoughts were on Isabel, and he brushed past Michael and into the room.

His sister was lying on the bed, twisting in the sheets and blankets. She was thrashing, her eyes scrunched shut, her breath coming in short breaths. Alex was trying in vain to wake her, fear etched into every line of his face, but nothing was happening, and she continued to scream.

"Isabel! Isabel," Max said, moving to her side in an instant, and resting a hand on her shoulder. She did not wake, and Alex sent Max a helpless glance, but the hybrid king could think of nothing in response.

"Isabel, wake up," Michael said from the foot of the bed, and then Tess and Maria were hovering there as well, and Michael continued, "It's just a dream. Isabel, come on… you're safe. It's just a dream."

"Izzy?" Alex whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. "Please."

And Isabel's eyes snapped open.

She sat up suddenly, a jerky, off-balance movement that caused her to gasp out in pain and grip her head in her hands. She took a few deep breaths, shuddering, and lifted watery eyes to everyone else.

"Isabel? What happened?" Max asked as Alex pulled her into a hug. Because he knew that this was no ordinary dream. It was something real. And it was terrifying her.

Isabel rested her head against Alex's chest. She didn't answer for a long moment, and Max thought she might refuse to talk about it completely, because the fear and horror in her eyes was so raw and so vivid. But then she bit her lip and closed her eyes, before turning her attention back to Max and uttering the one word he had dreaded to hear.

"Khivar."

"He was in your dream?" Alex asked, and Isabel nodded mutely. "What happened? What did he want?" Alex pressed, and Max knew that everyone in that room was remember what they had been told, what this could mean.

In several other timelines, this was how Khivar reached Isabel. This was how he tormented her. This was how he tore her apart from the inside and then lead her to her own death.

"He wanted me to come with him," Isabel said, trembling. "We were in the desert, and he reached out his hand to me and told me to follow him. Told me to come rule by his side like I was always meant to. And… and I said no. And he asked me if I was rejecting him, and he got mad. And then he started laughing and I… I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. And he said he loved me, and I told him I loved Alex and…"

She stopped, and Alex's arm tightened around her even more, and Max slanted a quick look at Michael, who was watching everything with a look of fury in his eyes.

"And what happened then?" Max prompted, turning back to Isabel.

She licked her lips. "He said if he couldn't have me, then no one could. And I saw Alex dying, and then you and Michael, and then Tess, and then Liz and Maria and Kyle and I…" Her words were cut off as she dissolved into tears, and he heard her whisper, "_Oh, God… make it stop_."

But they couldn't make it stop. They didn't know how to protect Isabel from this, from _him_.

So they left Isabel with Kyle and Abby, and the rest of them gathered to talk. And like Max had always suspected, it didn't take much for them to turn on each other.

"We need to find Khivar. We need to kill him. It's the only way to stop this," Michael said as he paced back and forth across the room, and Alex nodded in agreement. As far as anyone knew, stopping Khivar was the only feasible plan for saving Isabel, and now that the dreams had started, they were running out of time.

"We don't know how to kill him. We don't even know where he is," Max countered wearily. He was perched on the edge of the bed, Liz at his side, and all he wanted was to fall back onto the pillows and sleep. But the memory of Isabel's stark white face was enough to keep him awake, to haunt his thoughts and prevent him from resting.

"He's in Jesse Ramirez's body," Alex spoke up. "That's a start."

"And idea on how to find one person on a planet of several billion?" Max replied. "Any idea on how to get past his guards on all the other skins? Any idea on how to kill him?"

"At least we're trying," Michael snapped.

Max drew back, a flash of hurt reflected in his eyes. Isabel was his sister, and the very implication that he didn't want to do anything in his power to save her stung. But what could they do?

In a voice of forced calm, he answered, "I want to try, too. But we need a plan, Michael. We can't just rush in and… and hope that this works. We need time."

"We don't have time," Alex answered testily. "Isabel doesn't have time."

"And we do her no good if we get ourselves killed," Max pointed out logically.

"He's right," Tess agreed from where she stood by the door. "If we're going to help Isabel, we need to do it properly. Right now, we're just running and hiding. We can't stop Khivar this way. We need to take a stand and fight, and that's going to take time."

"The dreams have already started," Maria said, a little nervously.

"Yeah, and by all rights you should have died in New York when Rath and Lonnie and the skins attacked us," Liz said softly, looking up at Maria. "But you didn't. We took something that happened in _every_ timeline and we changed it. Which means we can change this, too."

"Of course you would side with Maxwell," Michael snorted, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not siding with anyone," Liz protested. "I just think we need to be careful. I'm trying to keep us from getting killed."

"Right now, I'm more concerned about Isabel," Alex said simply. "She's the one with the clock set against her."

"I don't think Isabel would want us to get ourselves killed trying to save her," Tess commented dryly.

Michael spun to face her, glowering. "So? I don't think Isabel wants to die, either. We have to stop this, alright? We _have to_ stop it."

"We will," Max promised, and wondered vaguely if he had any way of keeping that promise.

"How? By sitting around and doing nothing?" Michael demanded. "We can't do that anymore, Maxwell. It's over. This whole hiding in plain sight thing isn't going to cut it because now we're at war."

"We were always at war," Liz muttered.

"What about Courtney?"

All eyes spun to Alex, surprised by the suggestion. He stared defiantly back, and Max felt the tiniest bit of unease creep up his spine. He didn't like the look in Alex's eyes, the determination and complete disregard for anything else.

"What about her?" Liz asked tentatively.

"She can help us," Alex said. "She might know how to find Khivar and how to kill him. She's been tracking the skins, she told us that much."

"No. No way," Maria said firmly, shaking her head. "She can't be trusted. She can't be trusted _at all_."

"I agree," Liz said. And she looked almost apologetic, but it was also clear that she was more than a little uncomfortable with this idea. She shot Max a quick, unreadable look, but he knew what she was thinking. What if Courtney got to him again? What if Courtney found a way to tear him apart? Would they just be trading his sanity for Isabel's?

"But she might be the only one who can help us," Alex said. "And I'm sure we can reach her. Isabel can dream-walk her. We just need a photograph, and I can get one from the Internet and…"

"And what?" Maria questioned. "Invite her back here? See how many people she decides to murder on the way? What part of _she can't be trusted_ are you not getting, Alex?"

"What part of _Isabel is dying_ are you not getting?" Alex retorted furiously.

It was the first time Max had seen Alex truly angry, and it surprised him. The mind-mannered, soft-spoken human was the most reasonable of the group. But now he was different. Now he was slowly turning into someone that Max didn't even recognize anymore. Now Isabel's life seemed to be the one thing that mattered to him, and he couldn't even begin to comprehend anything else.

"Um… guys? Can we just calm down and talk about this…?" Liz pleaded.

"I'm tired of talking," Michael grumbled.

"Look, you guys do what you want," Alex said suddenly, turning away from all of them and marching towards the door. "I'm going to go ask Isabel to contact Courtney."

"Alex…"

"You can do things your way," Alex said coldly, "but I'm going to do them mine."

* * *

"No."

"Isabel…"

"_No_, Alex."

Max leaned against the wall outside the room as he listened to the argument. It wasn't the first one Alex and Isabel had had, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Isabel had refused to contact Courtney and now, three days later – three nightmares later – Alex was still refusing to give up on the plan.

"Why not?"

"Because I saw what she did to my brother, and I won't be the reason she tears him apart again. We can't trust her, Alex. We just _can't_."

"Khivar will drive you insane. Khivar will _kill_ you."

There was a silence in response to Alex's words, and Max wondered what Isabel was thinking. But whatever her response was, it wasn't verbal, and so the next thing he heard was the frustrated sigh from Alex.

"This isn't over, Isabel."

"Yes, it is. I won't do this, Alex, and you can't reach her without me."

"So you're content to die? I know you don't want to hurt Max, but don't you think it's going to hurt him even more when you're gone? What about the rest of us, Isabel? What about what this will do to us?"

"I'm more concerned about what Courtney will do to you."

Max turned and walked away, and didn't hear the end of the argument.

* * *

In the end, it was Maria who brought them all together again.

They were standing outside another motel, ready to climb into the van and continuing the running and the hiding. Isabel was looking worn, the dark circles under her eyes growing more pronounced, more noticeable, every day. Alex was constantly filled with worry, and hardly ever left her side. At that moment, he was standing next to her, an arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she was leaning into him, her own eyes closed.

The tension in the group could be seen in Michael's features as he yanked open the door of the van with more force than was necessary and gestured for Maria to climb in front of him. She hesitated, looking at Michael, and then at Liz. Liz, who was leaning against Max, but staring at Isabel.

Everyone seemed to be looking at Isabel these days. As though they were all afraid if they looked away, she would disappear.

As Maria hesitated, Kyle stepped past her and buckled Abby into her car seat, securing his daughter tightly with the seatbelt. Abby squirmed a bit, then settled down and yawned.

"I agree with Alex," Maria said suddenly.

And Max gave her an absolutely incredulous stare.

"What?" Isabel whispered, opening her eyes and looked at Maria.

"You didn't agree with him just a few days ago," Liz said, frowning.

"I know, but I've been thinking about it and… and we all know that Courtney isn't trustworthy. But I'm just not sure that we have any other options and… and we're in this together. Together, we're stronger than Courtney. We're better than her. So if she betrays us, we can stop her. But… but we need to at least hear what she has to say. Because maybe she can help."

"What made you change your mind?" Isabel asked quietly.

"We're in this together," Maria replied. "And we have changed something. We've saved me, we've averted that death. And Tess hasn't betrayed us and died, and Alex hasn't died, and… and we can change this future. But we have to do it together. And I know the FBI is after us, and I know the skins are after us, and I know Serena's dead, and Max and Isabel's mom and Liz's parents are, too… But I know that if we're going to win, we're going to do it together. And if… if we're going to lose, we're going to do it together. But whatever happens… I just want to know that, at the end of everything, we'll still all be on the same side."

Max nodded slowly, then turned to Isabel. She was looking at him, eyes wide with tentative fear and even more tentative hope, and he took a deep breath and said, "I agree. We can do this, Izzy. I can do this. I won't let her get to me. And she can help us and… and I'm not willing to give up on you."

He looked at everyone else. Alex looked relieved, and Maria was offering a hesitant smile. Michael was impassive, and Tess and Kyle were both looking at each other, so Max couldn't read their expressions. The worry in Liz's eyes was clear, but there was some resignation there as well, as though she knew what was going to happen next and was slowly accepting it.

"Michael was right that hiding isn't going to work anymore," he continued. "We've got Abby to worry about, and our parents, wherever they are. And now Isabel… so I say we start trying to find allies. And I saw we take what help we can get and we make a stand and we fight back. And whatever happens, we do it together."


	28. The Twelfth Dimension II: Nonexistence 3

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

* * *

The Twelfth Dimension II: Nonexistence (part three)

_The invisible and the non-existent look very much alike._

_- Delo McKown_

"Nice place. A little too plain for my tastes, though."

"Nobody cares what you think, Courtney."

"Oh, now that _hurts, _DeLuca."

He heard the bickering voices before they entered the room. He looked up from the maps spread out on the table, and gave a weary sigh. He almost didn't want to deal with Courtney, but they had been waiting for her for over a week, and if she could help them…

Isabel had woken up screaming again last night.

Max turned to face them completely as they entered, Michael dragging Courtney into the room with his hand wrapped tightly around her arm, and Maria trailing them, a smug expression on her face.

Courtney glanced at Max and grinned, a feral expression in her eyes. "I told you our paths would cross again. Although, honestly, I didn't think it would be because you actually decided to summon me." She wrenched her arm free of Michael's grip and flopped down into the nearest chair, looking completely at ease.

The house wasn't exactly what Max had wanted when he said they would take a stand and fight back, but it was good enough. It was in the middle of nowhere, a good thirty miles to the nearest town. The house itself looked abandoned, and they themselves never ventured to the floors above ground. But the three subterranean floors gave them more than enough room to spread out and figure out their options. And at least they were constantly on the run.

At least their parents had been able to join them, so they no longer had to be separated, wondering all the time what was happening with their families.

And at least the FBI hadn't found them yet.

"So, what do you want?" Courtney asked.

"To kill Khivar," Max replied.

Blonde eyebrows raised at that comment, and the skin laughed. "Don't we all? But that's far easier said than done, Max." She looked over at Michael, then frowned and pressed, "Where's the other two? Your Princess and your Queen?"

"Around," Max replied vaguely. It wasn't any of Courtney's business, and he hadn't asked her to come here so that _he_ could answer _her_ questions. "Do you know where Khivar is? Can you find him?"

"No," Courtney replied in a clipped tone. "And I don't want to. I'm not suicidal, Max. And I didn't think you were, either, although clearly I might have been wrong about that one." She leaned forward, eyes bright. "I want him dead, believe me, I do. But you can't kill him yet. Not until you get rid of his power. You have to cut off a few arms and legs before you can go after the head of the monster."

"I'm not asking for your advice, Courtney," Max replied. "I'm going after Khivar, with or without your assistance. So can you find him for me or not?"

Courtney studied him for a long time, then said quietly, "You're making a stand. You're going to stay and fight instead of all this running and hiding crap." Max nodded once, and she said, "Then you're going to need help."

"I'm not trusting anyone you send my way," Max answered instantly.

Courtney chuckled, amused. "Really? Because you dragged me here and asked for my help, so it seems like you're trusting me with at least this much of your plan. And since finding Khivar is a rather big part of what you want to do – maybe the most important part – I'd say you're already in way over your head. You want my help or not?"

"Just find Khivar for us," Michael growled from behind her.

She looked at him, then nodded. "Alright, fine. I'll see what I can do. In the mean time, there's a Hollywood director you might be interested in. His name is Kal Langley. And you don't have to worry about him betraying you. He's not wired that way."

"What do you mean?" Max asked intently. He'd have to get Alex to look into this Langley guy for him, see if there was anything useful to be found. Was he human? Or was he something more…?

"You remember how you had two protectors on that nifty little ship of yours?" Courtney drawled. "Well, let's just say Kal got the less than pleasant end of the bargain. Nasedo couldn't defy a direct order from you, although he could still happily screw with you as much as he wanted as long as you didn't wise up and order him to quit it. And I'm sure he got his kicks doing that, because what else was he going to do stuck on this miserable planet."

"Get to the point, Courtney," Max ordered.

"Hm… patience, patience. And here I thought Mikey was supposed to be the one with no self control?" Courtney mocked. Then she sighed and shook her head. "This is far less amusing then it was last time I messed with your head. You're taking all the fun out of it."

Max's hand clenched into fists, his knuckles going white at the mention of what she had done all those years ago.

Courtney smirked. "Now I'm getting a reaction."

"Just tell us about Langley," Michael spat.

"Fine," Courtney answered, rolling her eyes. "So, like I said, Nasedo couldn't defy a direct order. But as long as you didn't order him to do anything, he was pretty much free to go about his business. That's why the skins tried to turn him, although he was apparently to loyal and they had to kill him when they figured out he wouldn't take the deal. But Kal… Kal didn't even have that much freedom. Not only can he not defy an order, he can't cause you serious harm. And he can't, by any inaction of his own, knowingly allow you to come to serious harm. Little thing are okay – actually, I think he's allowed to go so far as to hit you, but beyond that… not so much. So I'd say he's a pretty good bet for getting you help."

Max exchanged an intrigued glance with Michael. He felt slightly nauseated at the fact that the scientists who had created them had gone so far as to practically remove Kal's free will, but he would at least be an asset. They had to talk to him, see if he could help.

He didn't want to force Kal into anything, but this was his sister who was dying. And he'd do anything for Isabel.

"Oh… but there is one other thing," Courtney said softly. She waited until Max had turned his attention back to her, and then added, "He's not going to want to help you."

* * *

"Oh… wow."

Max looked up at the sprawling mansion before him, and couldn't help but agree with Maria's assessment of the place. It was surrounded by a gate with several security cameras, and the expansive lawn then sloped gently upwards towards the brick and stone building. Several cars dotted the driveway, and the lights on the entire first floor were on. The sound of laughter could be heard floating out on the night wind.

"Alright, here's the deal," Max said under his breath, "Michael and I will go crash the party, see if we can talk to Kal. Maria, Tess, stay here. And Tess, keep your eyes open for anything alien. We don't know who else might be interested in Kal."

Tess nodded in agreement, but Maria didn't looked pleased with the idea, and she asked sharply, "Are you sure we really want to split up?"

Max knew her concerns. They had already decided to split up on this mission, leaving Isabel and Alex, Kyle and Abby, and Liz behind at the hidden house they now called their home. Their parents were there as well, and Max simply hadn't felt comfortable leaving them unprotected at a time like this.

"It's too risky for all of us to come in," Max answered slowly. "And, anyway, I'm the one who needs to talk to him." He wrinkled his nose at the mere thought of having this conversation with the shape-shifter, but reminded himself that he was doing this for Isabel, and steeled his resolve.

"I agree," Michael said. "Tess can keep you both safe out here. We'll be back soon." Maria frowned, but Michael caught her arm and said again, "I promise. We'll be back soon."

And the pixie blonde nodded.

Max exchanged a quick look with Tess, and she gave him a short, emphatic nod, her silent promise to keep herself and Maria safe until they got back. Then Max turned and gestured to Michael, and the two of them walked into the mansion.

They weren't stopped at the security gate, something Max knew Tess probably had a hand in as the security guard seemed to stare right through them. The walk up to the mansion was silent, a strained tension between the two friends.

At the door, Michael turned to Max. "You ready?"

Max snorted. "Not really," he muttered in reply. "But whatever. Let's go."

"Never thought I'd be the one following _you_ into some harebrained scheme," Michael answered, and Max laughed, feeling slightly better, and pushed open the door.

It was easy enough to find their way to the main gathering. The room was lit with several chandeliers, and a line of tables near the far wall held a few candles. There were bottles of wine and other, harder, alcohols on an open bar at the back, and entrées on several coffee tables between the plush sofas and overstuffed armchairs.

Michael let out a low whistle.

"There's Kal," Max said softly, pointing to a man sitting in a chair near the center of the room. He was talking to a few other people, but he looked up sharply as they entered the room, as though he could sense their presence. He turned towards them, eyes cold and hard, and Max felt a chill run down his spine.

Before Max could say anything, however, another man pushed into the room and joined the crowd, calling out, "Hey, Kal. What happened with Tiffany? Did she walk?"

Kal Langley tore his gaze away from Max and shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. Max thought it looked a little strained, but he listened to the answer with some interest.

"Are you kidding? She's an actress. I bumped up her per diem, put her in a bigger trailer, and got Brian to rewrite her part." He nodded his head to one of the men he was speaking with, and added, "His finest hour, let me tell you. Now the hooker's a part-time yoga instructor."

There were chuckles from everyone else in the room, and Max could only assume that it would be funier if he knew Tiffany, or at least had some idea what the plot of the movie they were discussing was.

"You'll open at 30 million, easy," Michael said, and Max could only gape at his friend in surprise as the normally taciturn alien walked further into the room. "Sorry I'm late," he added, "I was on the phone with variety."

The man next to Kal, Brian, looked at Michael curiously. "Do I know you?"

"Michael Guerin," Michael answered, extending his hand. "And my associate is Max Evans." His gaze moved quickly to Kal as he finished, "Antar Productions."

Max watched as Kal stiffened.

"What are you guys doing here?" Kal asked, baring his teeth slightly, and that was enough for Max to assume that the Hollywood producer knew exactly who he was dealing with.

"Just wanted to catch up, talk a bit about a collaboration we thought you might want to work on," Max replied, coming to Michael's side. "New project we had in mind." He flicked his eyes to Brian, and then to the other people in the room. They all seemed human, and several weren't even paying attention to the conversation. They were talking to each other in small groups of two and three, gossiping about the latest news from whatever sets they were working on, completely unaware of the importance of the discussion happening before them.

"A new film?" Brian asked, glancing at Kal. "I didn't realize you were taking on a new project?"

"He's thinking about it," Max cut in before Kal could say anything. "It's science fiction."

"Since when do you do science fiction?" Brian asked skeptically, still looking at Kal.

"Oh, but this one is a good one," Max pressed. "It's about an alien. Four aliens, actually, stranded on Earth. And they're trying to avoid their enemies and find a way to save the world. Pretty epic."

"I think that one has been done before," Kal answered in a low growl. "Most of the time, those kinds of plots don't open."

"This one will," Michael said confidently. "Because it's got a twist. One of those stranded aliens… he's a big Hollywood producer."

That got a round of laughter from everyone listening to the conversation, and Michael smirked slightly. Max rolled his eyes, but then frowned slightly as he noticed Kal lighting the end of a cigar in a candle set on a table near his chair. His finger and thumb casually brushed against the flame, and he didn't even seem to notice.

Max pressed his lips together thoughtfully. Kal couldn't feel heat.

"You're killing me here, boys," Kal said, chewing on the end of his cigar and looking at them scornfully. "But I got to tell you, the feel-good science fiction flicks don't work for me. It's only interested if somebody dies."

Max thought instantly of his mother, of Liz's parents, of Serena. "People die," he replied.

"Well, I know you've got a busy day tomorrow, boys, so let me walk you to the door," Kal suggested, rising to his feet.

"Sure. Maybe we can do lunch tomorrow to talk about the project," Max answered as he followed Kal from the room, Michael at his side. "There's a new place downtown I want to try, I hear the salmon there is to die for."

As soon as they were out of earshot from the room, Kal spun around to face Max, his expression thunderous. "Who are you working with?" he snarled, hand raised as though to attack.

"Ourselves," Michael answered, snapping off the word. "Who do you think we're working with?"

"Don't lie to me. I will kill you," Kal threatened.

"You _can't_," Michael replied, and for a moment, Kal faltered, looking unsure.

Then he asked, "How did you get to Los Angeles?"

"I-10 west," Max answered automatically, "then straight north." Kal whipped his head around to glare at Max, and the hybrid king pressed, "Do you murder everyone who discovers that you're an alien, or do they get a warning first?"

"So this is the mighty king of Antar," Kal mused. "A low-rent Tom Cruise with a ten dollar haircut? Buddy boy, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

Max swallowed uneasily. Courtney had said that Kal couldn't cause him any serious harm and couldn't defy a direct order. And he didn't trust her, not at all, but it was time to see if she was actually telling the truth about this.

"We need your help," he said.

Kal rolled his eyes. "No," he replied, and turned to walk away.

"Don't walk away from me," Max ordered, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. He hated it, hated the feeling that he was forcing his will on someone else, but even as he ground out the order, Kal seemed to sag under the weight of the words. Max continued, "You have to help us. You're our protector."

Kal snorted. "Don't call me that. Yes, I was put on that ship to protect you. but that was 50 years ago. I've got my own life now, and it has nothing to do with any of you."

"You can't feel anything," Max said after a pause. Both Kal and Michael looked at him, bewildered by the change in subject, and he elaborated, "You put your fingers in the fire while lighting that cigar and didn't even notice. Can you smell? Can you taste? Or do you live off lemons?" Kal's eyebrows raised slowly, and Max let out a long breath. "I saw the lemon orchard out back. You must have hundreds of them."

Kal folded his arms over his chest. "You don't know how lucky you are to have even a fraction of human DNA inside of you."

Michael chuckled darkly at that. "You have human envy?"

"There's not a sensual pleasure on this planet I can't afford, but I can't experience it, not like they can," Kal replied. His eyes moved past them, towards the room at the end of the hall. They could still hear the voices and laughter coming from inside, the party continuing, all of the shape-shifter's guests completely oblivious to what was happening.

Kal sighed heavily.

"But I've learned to diminish my alienness. I don't shape-shifter, I don't use other powers. I haven't done it in years. Gives the body's organs a chance to function. Took a while. It wasn't until 1978 that I first smelled the chlorine in the pool."

He sounded almost nostalgic, and Max wondered what it would be like to move through life without being able to experience his own surroundings. He couldn't imagine not tasting, smelling, feeling… to rely only a sight and sound…

"But don't you feel sorry for me, buddy boy," Kal added. "I love my life. Can you say the same?"

Before Max could answer, the sound of a phone ringing cut through the air, and Kal fished his cell phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID for a moment, then huffed in obvious annoyance and flipped open the phone.

"Hello, Nicky baby! No. No, no, no. I want your client on my set in two days… That's not true… I'll email you a copy of the contract. Hey, baby, you know I only yell because I love. Later." He snapped the phone shut and looked at Max. "Actors. So temperamental."

"I'm guessing not as temperamental as psychic skins who are trying to take over the world," Max replied.

Kal didn't response to the remark. Instead, he said, "Come on, boys. It's time to leave." And he turned and marched towards the staircase before Max could think to stop him.

They scrambled to keep up, catching him at the door leading out to the driveway. In the distance, Max saw the two shadows of Tess and Maria standing near the gate, waiting for them.

"Alright, boys. Adios," Kal said cheerfully, waving. When neither Max nor Michael made a move to leave, Kal said coolly, "Don't make me call the guards."

"If I'm going to make you do something, it won't be calling the guards," Max answered honestly. Kal hesitated, a look of insecurity in his eyes, a look that made Max's stomach twist uncomfortably. Forcing a calm expression, he said, "You think we don't know that you can't defy a direct order?"

Kal's lip curled. "This is my life now, Max. This is my home. Not Antar."

"Max," Michael said suddenly, and nodding towards the gate.

Maria and Tess were approaching, Maria looking worried and Tess looking annoyed. They walked quickly up the path, Maria moving instantly to Michael's side and Tess coming to stand between Max and Michael.

"I thought I told you to…" Max started, but Tess cut him off.

"Yeah, but Maria wouldn't listen. She saw you guys and wanted to make sure everything was okay, and I didn't really think you'd all approve of me using mind-warp to stop her, so what else was I supposed to do?" She looked at Kal. "This the guy? Langley?"

"Yep," Michael said angrily. "This is him."

"So are you going to help us?" Maria questioned, picking up on Michael's simmering anger.

Kal gave Tess a searching look. "You must be the young Queen. Sweetheart, you have no idea just what kind of mess you're trying to deal with right now. And no, I'm not helping."

"Wait, _what_?" Maria demanded.

"How many times do I have to spell this out for you? I don't want anything to do with the war anymore. I'm done. Finished. I'm living the life I love, and I'm not going to use my powers and sacrifice everything I've gained. Being able to taste lemons might not seem like much to you, but it means something to me, and I'm not giving it up. Just like I'm not giving up the smell of chlorine."

"Lemons?" Maria echoed in confusion. "What do lemons have to do with anything?"

"How dare you come here and threaten to order me to help you?" Kal continued, ignoring Maria. "You think you have the right to ruin my life? Just because some biological trick gave you that power doesn't mean using it is right. Have you even thought about the life you'd be ruining if you did this to me? This is your fight, not mine. I don't want anything to do with it anymore. I don't want anything to do with any of you."

"And just because you have the ability to ignore what's happening all around you doesn't make _that_ right, either," Maria countered, eyes flashing dangerously. "You really think this isn't your problem? You stand here and lecture us on right and wrong and how this could ruin your life and yet you're the one refusing to fight. This is a war and people are dying. _Your_ people on _your_ planet. It's their lives that are being ruined, they're the ones who are going to pay the ultimate price for this, and you won't help them because you don't want to give up the ability to taste lemons? How could that sacrifice being anywhere near comparable to what they're sacrificing _every_ day?"

Kal looked taken aback by Maria's fury. She was advancing on him, and the shape-shifter, older, taller, and more powerful than she was, was backing away.

"You disgust me. When Courtney said you wouldn't want to help us, I thought it was because you had some ideological problem with Zan. Because you thought that someone else was better suited to rule. But it isn't, is it? You're not thinking about any of that. You're thinking about yourself and what you'd have to give up. This is a war, this could decide the fate of at least two planets, and all you care about is your own petty, insignificant life."

By the time Maria finished, she was shaking with pent-up rage, Michael was smirking with an expression of undeniable pride, and Tess looked highly amused. But Kal's expression was harder to read. He was staring at Maria almost contemplatively, and slowly shook his head.

"Come back tomorrow morning," he said finally. "We'll talk then."

As the three hybrids and the human walked away from the sprawling mansion, Max heard Tess whisper to Maria, "If you ever tell anyone I said this, I will vehemently deny every word. But you were awesome."

Maria grinned.

* * *

They met the next day, gathering over breakfast on the back patio of the mansion. The Kal who came to meet them at the door and usher them inside was nothing like the man they had met last night, and though there was still a wariness in his eyes and an edge in his tone, he was actually helpful.

"Look," he said, jumping into things right away, "I'm not shape-shifter and I'm not using my powers unless I absolutely have to. But I can help you in other ways. I have contacts – human ones and aliens ones – and they can be useful."

Max hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. That's fair." _For now_. He didn't say the last two words, but he knew that Kal heard them even in the silence.

"So what exactly do you need?" Kal asked.

"A way to kill Khivar before he destroys my sister's mind," Max answered.

"A way to get the FBI off our backs," Michael added.

"And a better place to hide until all of this happens," Tess finished.

Kal looked at Maria. "Do you have anything to add to that list?" he asked, almost sarcastically.

She looked back at him, eyes wide an innocent. "I wouldn't mind a vanilla latte with this breakfast," she replied.

Michael snorted into his orange juice.

Kal shook his head and then turned back to Max. "It will take a little while to get Khivar's location. And it won't be easy to kill him. But the technology he is using now… well, if you kill his host while he's possessing the man, Khivar will die, too."

Tess shifted uncomfortably. "We have to kill Jesse?" she asked.

"You _know_ the person he's possessing?" Kal demanded incredulously. Max gave a slow nod of confirmation, and the shape-shifter groaned. "Of course you do. Heaven forbid this be easy."

"We can cross that bridge when we get there," Max said stonily, trying not to think about the fact that he would have to murder a man who had been his brother-in-law in a different life.

"As for your sister, what is Khivar doing to her?" Kal questioned.

"He's entering her dreams. Haunting her. It's going to drive her insane. Kill her." Max didn't bother clarifying how he knew that it would kill Isabel, and fortunately, Kal didn't ask. He didn't know how he would have explained it, anyway. It was bad enough that Courtney knew the truth about the other timelines, he didn't want Kal to know as well. He didn't trust the shape-shifter enough for that.

Kal considered this, brow furrowed. "I don't know any way of stopping that," he admitted at last. "So I guess we'll just have to hope you kill Khivar first."

"And the FBI? How do we stop them?"

At that, Kal gave a smirk. "Let me take care of them. It's a human problem, and should be handled in a human way."

"You're going to have to explain more than that," Max answered.

"I will. But I think we should address the third problem on your little list. I know a few safe places for you to hide. For now, at least. Being a successful Hollywood director has its perks, let me tell you. And multiple houses is one of them. But we might need to expand eventually."

At that, the conversation trailed off, and Michael and Maria both began to eat the breakfast Kal's cook had prepared. Tess played with the top of the bottle of Tabasco sauce, and didn't touch her food, and Max twisted his fork idly in his hands.

And when Kal excused himself from the table, Max quickly followed.

He caught up with the shape-shifter inside the house. "Kal, wait," he said, and Kal stopped automatically, unable to defy the order. Max chewed his lip, realizing he hadn't even meant to give and order, and told himself seriously that he was going to have to start thinking through the things he said to their new ally.

But right now, he was going to give an order. Because right now, he had to know he was getting a truthful answer to his question.

"Tell me why you changed your mind about helping us."

Max could see the struggle in Kal's eyes, the fact that he really didn't want to be forced into answering any questions. But he couldn't fight the order, and finally he said, "That human friend of yours."

"Maria?"

"Yes, her. She was very… enthusiastic last night. She believed what she was saying. I don't know how or why, but you've got her pretty damn convinced that this is her war, too. And she's human. She's got nothing to do with any of it."

"She's Michael's girlfriend. And, given that Khivar is threatening to destroy the Earth – starting with New York City – I'd say being human isn't much of a reason to stay out of this anymore."

"Be that as it may, I can see you're not going to let this alone. She believes what she's saying. You all do. You believe it more than I can even begin to describe, which means you're willing to do anything to stop Khivar. Including ordering me to help you."

Max didn't deny it.

Instead, he asked, "So you decided to help us because you figured that we'd force you to if you wouldn't do it willingly?"

Kal let out a long breath. "Yeah. I guess I'm stuck in this no matter what. But I'd rather be doing it on my terms than on yours. I'd like to make the choices… not be forced into it like some kind of glorified slave."

* * *

"We should have met up with Langley _years_ ago."

Max couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips as he watched his sister run her fingers over the marble counter of the expansive kitchen. Her face was bright and full of awe, something he had not seen since the dreams started. She looked happy, and that was enough to make him decide that when this was all over, he was going to really owe Kal.

Their father was sitting in one of the ornately carved mahogany chairs at the kitchen table, and though he looked somewhat exhausted, he, too, was grinning at Isabel's obvious excitement.

"I can't believe Mr. Langley thinks of this as a small vacation home," he said mildly, yawning.

Max nodded, but was prevented from answering by the appearance of Liz, who said in an amazed tone, "There are eleven bedrooms in this place. Who has _eleven_ bedrooms in their vacation home?"

"Wealthy Hollywood directors," Isabel answered. "Did you see the stove? _Eight_ burners. I swear he's got three or for different espresso machines. And there's an ice cream maker, and did you see the stainless stell bread machine? And the platinum rice cooker. _Platinum_. And two three refrigerators. Although one of them is entirely full of lemons."

It was a nice house, hidden in plain sight in California. The security system around the place had been set up shortly after the 1947 crash when Kal was still concerned about the skins and his job of protecting the Royal Four, and so had a few tricks built into it, ones that allowed him to at least delay an attack by enemy aliens long enough for anyone in the house to escape through a series of underground tunnels.

Upon seeing the place, Alex had commented that it was all very science fiction.

Upon hearing that, Maria had pointed out that their entire lives were very science fiction.

As Isabel and Liz continued to marvel over the wonders of the kitchen, Max took a seat next to his father at the table. He didn't know where Kal was, and hadn't heard anything from Courtney since their last conversation prior to the trip to Hollywood. It worried him a little, that he didn't know where she was or what she was doing.

"Are you alright?"

Max looked up at his father and sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, just a little… overwhelmed." Had it really only been a few months since the FBI had cornered him in the library in Boston? Since he had killed them in cold blood and fled the city?

Philip laughed. "Aren't we all?" he murmured, shaking his head in amusement. He looked away from Max, towards the window that took up the entire wall behind them. Max followed his gaze. Through the window, they could see the rest of the grounds, complete with a pool and a lemon orchard.

How many lemons did Kal really need?

"I still can't get over this," Philip said after a long pause. "My son is a king. Fighting a war."

"I can't get over it either, Dad, and I've had a lot longer to come to grips with my life," Max admitted. "But the concept is still so foreign and I just…" He stopped, his throat dry. He didn't want to admit it, but he also couldn't deny the truth, not when he knew his Dad could so easily see it in his eyes.

He was scared. Terrified, really, because this future didn't seem all that different from any of the other ones, and he knew how all of those ended.

What if they couldn't be saved? Khivar had an entire army at his disposal. How could they fight that?

"I wish Mom was here," Max said suddenly. Not that there was anything his mother could offer. He'd long since stopped thinking of his parents the way most children did – as sources of comfort and answers. He loved them, of course, but he'd always known he was different, and when the answers to why he was different finally came, his parents hadn't been the ones he had turned to for help.

But now that she was gone, now that he no longer had the option of requesting help from his mother, he felt a gaping hole in his chest, a need to have her there, to have her tell him that everything would be okay.

Not that he'd actually believe it, though.

"Me, too," Philip agreed. "I miss her every day."

Max swallowed. "I wish…" _that I'd had the chance to tell her the truth before she died. And that I'm sorry._

"She knew how much you loved her," Philip said, seemingly reading Max's thoughts. He studied his son for a long moment, then continued, "I think the real question is did you know how much she loved you?"

Max ran the back of his hand over his eyes, trying to pass off the gesture as one of fatigue rather than admit that he could feel the tears start to form. "Yes," he answered, even though it was a lie. After all, hadn't he spent _years_ unsure if his parents would accept him if they knew the truth?

If Philip knew that he was being lied to, he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he merely commented, "I wish you had told us sooner. I wish we'd had the chance to help you. I wish you didn't feel like you had to do this on your own for so long. But we can't change any of that, so I guess there's no reason to dwell on it."

Max forced a smile, all the while thinking that his father had no idea just how right he was. With Serena dead… this was it. This was their last chance to get things right.

"Dad, look! It's a lemon press," Isabel said suddenly, cutting into their conversation as she held up a bizarre looking contraptions that involved a juice squeeze, a peeler, and a slot for adding sugar to the concoction.

Philip smiled and stood up, moving to join his daughter. Max watched them for a moment, then got up and walked out of the kitchen, the sound of their laughter floating behind him.

He met a thoroughly disgruntled Michael in the hallway.

"Everything smells like roses," Michael snapped, jerking his head towards the door leading to a nearby bathroom. Complete with a Jacuzzi tub. "The soap, the air freshener. Even the hand towels are scented." As if to prove his point, he held out his hands, palms up. "I smell like _flowers_."

"I don't know, man. I think you smell _pretty_," came a mocking voice, and Kyle joined them, grinning at the outrage in Michael's expression. Abby was clinging to his hand, her eyes wide as she took in the sights. The child had clearly never seen anything quite this extravagant, and her mouth seemed to be perpetually hanging open in amazement.

"Whatever. I'm going to go find some normal soap," Michael grumbled and stalked away.

Kyle was silent for a moment, watching with a smirk, but then he turned his gaze away from Michael and gave Max a sharp look, head tilted to the side.

"You okay, Evans?"

Max snorted. Why did everyone keep asking him that?

"I'm fine," he answered.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Sure you are," he said, his tone making it perfectly clear that he didn't believe Max at all. But instead of pushing the issue, he said, "Langley seems to be pretty sure that we can just… disappear. No one will know where to look for us. We become invisible."

"The place is certainly well hidden from the skins," Max agreed. "The FBI is a different issue, but he seems convinced he can get them to leave us alone." He didn't mention the tiny tendrils of fear that threaded their way through his chest. Didn't mention that part of him was absolutely terrified that Kal's way of dealing with this would be to simply murder all of the FBI agents he could find. Saying that aloud would only make him sound like a hypocrite, because hadn't he done exactly the same thing?

"My Dad is looking into some things for Langley," Kyle said. "I don't know what it is, though. Something with law enforcement and a few old friends Dad still has. You can ask him about it, maybe it will make Langley's plan a bit clearer." He paused, then changed the subject abruptly, "How's Isabel?"

"Still holding on," Max answered. "I know it is helping her that Dad is here, but I think… she still really misses our mother, and…" And the added grief was slowly taking away her ability to deal with what was happening, with the nightmares that were plaguing her constantly, dreams she could not escape.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"You'll understand one day," Kyle said.

Max blinked. "Understand what?"

The football jock looked down, playing with a few loose threads on his shirt. "Why your mother is okay with what happened. Well, not okay, but…" He stopped, as though gathering his thoughts, then started again, "I'm not a sentimental person. I mean, even Michael can be more romantic than I am at times, and that's saying something. But when Abby was born… I love Tess and my Dad. And I care about what happens to all of you. But Abby… I would sacrifice anything for her, and it wouldn't really be a sacrifice. Because… because it's Abby and she's just… I can't explain, but…" He looked up at Max. "When you have children, you'll understand."


	29. Epilogue: Dimensionality

Title: Dimensionality

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: This chapter starts at the end, and then goes backwards in time to show how they got to the end. So pay attention to the times given at the beginning of each section. They tell you how long ago they are from the end of the chapter... if that makes any sense.

And now we have really reached the end of the journey. Although it isn't really the end, and I don't tie everything together nicely (because when do I ever do that anyway?), but all of our characters have reached the places they needed to go.

The one warning I will give is that, for me, this was always more about the personal growth of the characters than about the war with Khivar (although that could hardly be ignored) so my conclusion is more about the characters than the conflict.

Also, there is a short Liz POV bit at the end. Everything else is still told from Max's POV, but this one part needed to be from Liz's...

* * *

Epilogue: Dimensionality

_For the wise man looks into space and he knows there is no limited dimensions.  
- Laozi_

"I've got it."

In the near pitch black of the moonless night, those three words were enough to have Max sitting straight up in bed, the sleepiness fading quickly from his eyes. It was the ring of the phone that had woken him, low enough so that Liz did not hear it, but still loud enough to puncture the haze of his dreams. He had reached for it blindly, groping across the bedside table, and hadn't bothered to even look at the caller ID. He didn't know who was calling and he didn't care, all he wanted to do was tell the person on the other end of the line to call back in the morning.

But he didn't have a chance to speak. The moment he accepted the call, he heard Courtney's voice snapping out those three words.

_It_ could only mean one thing.

"You found Khivar," Max said slowly, shifting his body so that he could slowly slide out of the bed. Liz rolled over but did not wake, and Max let out a slow breath and tiptoed from the room.

"He's in Oregon, God only knows why. My intel says he'll be there for a few more days. If you're determined to go through with this idiotic plan of yours, now's the time to do it."

Max sagged against the wall in the hallway. "How many skins are with him?"

"A lot. He doesn't go anywhere unprotected, not any more." There was a slight hesitation in Courtney's voice, and then she added, "He knows you're going to be coming after him. He's known that since the minute that he started tormenting your sister. He's going to be ready for you."

It was a warning, and Max accepted it in silence. He wasn't sure if Courtney was worried at all about his safety, or if she was more concerned about what failure would mean for her. In the end, he supposed it didn't really matter. He would never trust her again, not completely, but he did know that she wanted Khivar dead.

"Try not to get yourself killed," Courtney finished. Then she disconnected the call.

Max sank to the floor in the hallway, pulling his knees into his chest. After all this time, it was finally here. He was going to face Khivar.

* * *

_Three months earlier…_

"I don't want to be the leader of this war. I don't want to end up like… like I did before."

Michael looked up, a bored, blank expression in his eyes. Max was pacing angrily, his frustration and annoyance getting the better of him, and it was clear that the hybrid General didn't really want to be part of this conversation.

But Max didn't care. Instead, he kept talking. "Do you know what Liz and Isabel both looked like when they were talking about it, telling me what had happened?" He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. "I mean, I couldn't even get Isabel to give much in the way of details, and Liz only told me after I'd repeatedly asked about it."

"Maybe the reason for not telling you was to keep you from doing something like this?" Michael suggested mildly. At Max's confused stare, he elaborated, "You know, get yourself all worked up about it and then proceed to drive us insane with your rambling."

"Not helping, Michael."

Michael threw his hands into the air. "What do you want me to say, Maxwell? I don't even know what you're talking about."

Max stopped in his pacing long enough to consider that, then nodded. "Alright," he agreed, flopping into the nearest chair. "I'm talking about the future where you and I were apparently the leaders of some military group that fought aliens and maybe even humans and I just…"

"You just what?" Michael questioned after Max had trailed off.

Tawny eyes narrowed, and the hybrid king found himself struggling to put his thoughts into words. "I just… the person I was then is not someone I ever want to be. I _saw_ Liz's face when she told me. I saw what she thought of the person I had become, of the things I was willing to do. She said she didn't even recognize me anymore, and I doubt I would have recognized myself, either."

"Maxwell, unless you're planning on starting a dictatorship right now, I'm not sure where all these fears are coming," Michael replied logically. "You _aren't_ that person."

But Max wasn't so sure.

The FBI had practically been slaughtered.

Well, it was a bit more complicated than that. But Kal had not been lying when he said he could take care of the problem. Max wasn't sure how he'd done it, and part of him was glad for that, because ignorance probably was bliss in this case. Or, at least, as close to bliss as he could get while the hid from a psychotic alien madman who was slowly driving his sister insane.

But Max knew enough to know that Kal had used his contacts and influence to frame someone for the deaths of the two FBI agents in the library. He didn't know who the scapegoat was or how it had all been done, but Kal had reported that it had started a witch hunt within the agency.

There had been a few more deaths, probably by Kal's hand, but Max didn't ask. And those deaths had only made everything worse for the remaining members of the FBI team that investigated extracurricular activity. It was an elite group, Kal had explained, like a reformed Special Unit, and not everyone at the agency believed in what they were doing. So the deaths had made the surviving members of the team worried, afraid that they were being set up, but nobody believed them, and Kal had someone twisted everyone's mind with lies and Max didn't even know how Kal had managed to pull it all off and…

"Hey, calm down. Hyperventilating? That's a bit extreme of a reaction, don't you think? We're just talking."

Max shrugged uneasily and forced himself to explain, "Kal spread some gossip, a few lies, planted false evidence, made everyone paranoid, worried about treachery and espionage… I don't know how he managed it, but he did, and look what happened."

"The Special Unit was disbanded and we don't have to worry about them anymore," Michael said. "And how is that a _bad_ thing?"

"He made them turn on each other. The Special Unit and the rest of the Agency… How many people died before it was over, Michael? How many coworkers turned on each other?" He ran a hand through his hair. "One month, Michael. He did all of that in one month. And I _let_ him."

"You didn't have a choice," Michael replied bluntly. "It was them or us."

"And that makes it _right_?" Max demanded. He knew it was necessary, had known it from the moment the FBI approached him in the library in Boston. It was no surprise, then, that Kal had acted on what Max had been feeling, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

He'd been a killer once. A man who cared about survival beyond anything else in the world. Twisted by anger and grief, haunted by loss… and wasn't he on the road to becoming that exact same person?

"No," Michael answered quietly, but with a voice underlined with steel, "but it makes it _necessary_. I didn't have a choice with Pierce. Isabel didn't have a choice with Whitaker. You didn't have a choice with Nicolas. None of us had a choice with Lonnie and Rath or the other skins who attacked. And we didn't have a choice – Kal didn't have a choice – with this."

But Max wasn't sure that was enough. Because now that they were in hiding and the FBI was no longer a real threat, now that Kal was talking about finding more allies, now that the reality of this war was crashing down on him…

It was a war. And he knew that it would have to end with death. Wasn't that how all wars ended?

"Oh, for the love of…" Michael ground out and jumped from his seat, a look of frustration and annoyance in his eyes. "Okay, look, here's the thing. In that other future, you didn't care about anything you did, right? You fought and people died and it didn't matter. Not to you or me, because Liz was gone, and Maria was dead, and so was Isabel and everyone else and… and nothing mattered to you except revenge on Khivar."

Max nodded mutely. That summed things up fairly well.

"Okay, but now, you're having this whole chick flick moment of worry that you might turn into something you don't like," Michael reasoned. "Doesn't the very fact that you're worried about this mean that you _won't_ become that person? Because he _didn't_ worry. That was the whole point."

It didn't seem like enough. It probably wasn't enough, but it was all Max had at the moment, and he accepted it in silence.

* * *

_Two months earlier…_

It was unusual to find Tess without Abby or Kyle, and so Max paused as he caught sight of her figure curled up in an armchair in the living room, flipping through the pages of a magazine. She lifted her gaze to him as soon as he entered, a frown marring her features.

"Everything alright?" she asked. "You look… confused."

Max laughed softly, though the humor was a bit strained. "I was actually just wondering where Kyle and Abby were. You're not usually here all by yourself."

Tess shrugged and held up the magazine. "I don't think either would be all that thrilled by the idea of spending an hour flipping through _People Magazine_. Abby's sleeping, and Kyle's hanging out with Jim." She tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and sat up fully, "And it's not like Kyle and I are always attached at the hip."

Max raised one disbelieving eyebrow.

Tess pursed her lips. "Hey, at least were not as nauseating as you and Liz."

This time, Max laughed with real humor. Then he asked in a more serious tone, "And you don't regret it? Kyle, I mean. Instead of… of Nick."

Tess' mouth fell open, and it was clear that she had not expected that question. She hesitated a moment, eyes searching Max's face, before she answered, "Does it matter? I love Kyle and it's been a really long time since I…" She stopped, shook her head. "Nick probably thinks I'm dead. I mean, it's not like we told him. We just… disappeared."

"Yeah, I know. But still…" He took a seat opposite her. "With the FBI off our backs, it might actually be safe for you to contact him again."

"Khivar killed Serena because of her connection to us," Tess answered. "I'm not taking that chance. Nick was… I did love him. I still care about him. I don't want him dead." Her eyes flicked past Max, towards the entrance to the room, as though she was checking for someone. But they were alone, and so she sighed and said, "And do you really think we're completely free from the FBI?"

"Kal thinks so," Max countered. "Why wouldn't we be?"

She shrugged. "In the aftermath of New York, of the virus… everyone was looking for someone to blame. That's why the other agencies and the military were so willing to believe the worst of the FBI, to turn on them. Kal didn't have much trouble getting people to turn on each other, but that doesn't mean… it doesn't mean they won't start asking questions again in the future. Does it?"

Max didn't answer. There wasn't much of an answer he could give. After all, she had a point. And yet, some part of him believed that their problems with the government really were over. He had seen reports of what had happened, of the people who had died, of the rumors that now ran through Washington DC, the lies that Kal and his allies had sewn. It _had_ to be over because there was simply no way anyone could come back from that.

"So why all the questions about Nick, anyway?" Tess pressed.

Max answered after a moment to gather his thoughts, "I've just been thinking a lot about the other futures. All the people I don't want to become."

If Tess had any idea as to why Nick was an important factor in those thoughts, she didn't give any indication of it. Her expression was blank and unreadable, and she stayed silent, letting Max do the speaking.

"You know. I don't want to be a person who manipulates and kills and doesn't care about anything. And I don't want to be a person who cheats on his wife."

Tess blinked. "God, Max, it's been years since I've even thought about that memory. Why do you care? Trust me, you're not going to cheat on Liz."

Max smiled faintly. "Yeah, you're probably right on that one," he agreed. "It's just… you know, character defects. I apparently have them in me. So how can guarantee that I won't do it again? When this is all over, Liz and I want children. But what if I'm a horrible father? I never had a chance in any of the other futures to be good at it. I mean, I gave my son up for adoption, or I didn't know my son for the first five years that you raised him, or cheated on my wife in front of my son…"

Tess clenched her hands tightly, and then slowly stretched her fingers. Max watched her as she answered, "At least a few times that was my fault. For, you know, killing Alex and taking your unborn son to Khivar."

"It doesn't bother you to talk about that?"

Tess tilted her head to the side. "I know nobody here is going to accuse me of being a traitor. Not anymore. What happened… well, we can't change it. But we don't have to relive it, either. Besides," she added, a bittersweet smile on her lips, "why don't you wait to worry about children until after Khivar's dead?"

"Yeah. I guess."

Tess frowned, then said, "Look, I've had this conversation with you before. Only it was you from the future, and the positions were reversed."

"Huh?"

"And I am going to give you the same advice that you gave me back then. Well, I'll paraphrase it a little." She leaned forward. "You don't want to be that person? Then _don't_."

"It isn't that simple," Max protested.

"Of course it isn't that simple," Tess agreed. "I never said it was. But… you told me once that you couldn't tell me what to do, you couldn't tell me what chances were worth taking. You said the only thing you could tell me was that I still had these chances. That it was my life, and my choices, and in the end, if I didn't like the path I was one, that I was the only one who could get off of it."

"I said all of that?" Max echoed, somewhat amazed. "I mean… the future version of me?"

"Yeah. In the pod chamber, around the time he started disappearing." Tess rubbed her eyes wearily. "And you were right. About all of it." A smirk tugged at her lips. "I have no idea how you got to be that smart."

Max snorted. "Me, neither," he admitted.

Tess swung her feet over the edge of the armchair and stood up slowly. "Max, I have a husband and a daughter and a surrogate father. And all of you. I have a family. So yeah, I don't mind talking about the past. And no, I don't regret not being with Nick. Because I'm _happy_. I'm happier than I've been in a really long time. Even if the world is ending."

* * *

_One month earlier…_

"You look…"

"Horrible? Yeah, I know. But thanks for the reminder, Max."

Max watched as Isabel nervously chewed her lip, running one hand over her eyes. The dark circles underneath them bothered him, as did the way she almost swayed on her feet and she crossed the kitchen and sank into the seat across from him at the table.

"You were screaming last night," he said bluntly.

She shivered. "He's always there. I can't… I can't stop him." She swallowed, looked away from him, almost afraid to meet his eyes. But he could see her emotions anyway, see the way she was caving in on herself.

He reached across the table and rested his hand on hers.

She offered a diffident smile, then said, "Sometimes, he doesn't come. I can go a couple days sleeping just fine, and then that makes me think that maybe it's over. And then… then he comes back, and I realize the only reason I had that break was because he _let_ me and I just… it makes it so much worse."

"We're going to fix this," Max said firmly.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Isabel whispered. She twirled a strand of hair idly around one finger. "we don't even know where Khivar is."

"Courtney's still looking for him," Max answered. "She'll find him. Eventually."

Isabel didn't say anything. In the silence that stretched between them, Max could hear the unasked question… would Courtney find him in time?

"I wish I could have warned him. Protected him," Isabel said abruptly.

Max raised his eyebrows, wondering. "Who?" he asked, unable to follow the sudden change in topic.

Isabel propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. "Jesse," she said. "I wish… I wish we could have…"

She didn't finish the statement, but she didn't need to. Max, too, wished the could have somehow protected the luckless lawyer. Just as much as he wished he wasn't going to have to kill Jesse. But it was the only way, he knew that now. And he tried not to think about the fact that stopping Khivar meant murdering a man who he _knew_, someone who he might have even considered a friend, if things hadn't gone the way they did.

It wasn't fair.

But it was a war, and he hadn't really expected it to be fair.

They stayed quiet for a while, sitting opposite each other at the table, listening the creak of footsteps on the stairs and the voices that floated from the room around them. Isabel looked worn-out and run down, but Max was starting to think that maybe they were all feeling that way, and Isabel was the only one who hadn't figured out how to hide it yet.

Part of him just wanted this all to be over.

* * *

_Now…_

It had taken several months for things to start feeling right. And even then, _right_ was probably too strong of a word. Max doubted he would ever get used to this existence, but he'd settled into some sort of pattern that he could at least live with. They all came together in this place, him and Liz, Maria and Michael, Isabel and Alex, Kyle and Tess and Abby, his father, Jim Valenti and Amy DeLuca, the Whitmans… His family was here.

And Kal, who came and went without giving much notice, who showed up with warnings and left with tasks, and was doing his damndest to keep the war at bay while the others regrouped and strategized. Courtney, too, had a role to play, one that Max did not particularly like, but valued nonetheless. Her information was always accurate, and if it came with snide comments about his leadership and doubts about his strength, he did his best to ignore it.

And there were others, people he didn't know. They never came to the house, never met Max, and Kal didn't do much more than vaguely mention them every now and then. They apparently didn't even know where Max was, or that he was fighting this war, but they were takings orders from Kal anyway, because they wanted this to be over as much as everyone else did.

Even Khivar clearly wanted it to be over, although the end he had in mind was quite different from what Max wanted.

And time went by, first one month, and then two. And then four. Then Abby turned two and they had a small party and everyone laughed and smiled and tried to ignore the pending doom that seemed to constantly hang over them like a determined storm cloud.

But throughout all of that, one thing did not change.

Isabel.

Max found himself standing outside the room she shared with Alex, listening. There was no sound from within, not that he really expected it. It was the middle of the night, after all, and both his sister and Alex were probably sleeping.

Anyway, silence was better than screaming.

The dreams had gotten worse, and Isabel had faded, becoming a mere shadow of herself. Christmas had come and gone, and while the idea of the holiday had cheered her greatly, she hadn't participated in any of the minimal decorating or planning that occurred. And that, more than anything, had indicated to Max just how worn out she was.

He'd spent so long biting his tongue and watching her, wanting to tell her that he would fix this, and knowing at the same time that it might be impossible. He couldn't promise her anything, not when he didn't want to make a promise they both knew he couldn't keep.

But now… now he had an answer. Now he knew where Khivar was.

The soft tread of bare feet on the floor caught his attention, and he turned to see Liz padding towards him, her gaze concerned. "Max?" she murmured, coming to his side.

He looked down at the phone he was holding, still clenched tightly in his hands. "Courtney called. She found him." Liz's sharp intake of breath was the only answer he got, and he let out a harsh chuckle. "She found him," he repeated, almost unable to believe that they had finally reached the end.

Whatever that end might be.

"When are you leaving?" Liz asked. And then she corrected herself, "When are _we_ leaving?"

He looked at Liz, and noticed that she was looking back at him with an intense expression in her eyes. He opened his mouth to reject her offer, to tell her that he didn't want her to come, but the words stuck in his throat. He did want her to come, because some selfish part of him wasn't sure he could face Khivar without her support.

On the other hand, if she came, she might die. And he knew that he would never be able to live with that.

"We might have put our wedding on hold," Liz said quietly, wrapping her fingers around his hand, "but that doesn't make me feel like I'm any less your wife. We're in this together, all of us."

Max blinked. "Right." He looked up towards the ceiling for a minute, then said, "Three days. We leave in three days."

And now it was real. So undeniably real, and he didn't want to face the possibility that…

Liz's hand squeezed a bit more tightly, and he looked down at their interlocked fingers.

Liz had powers. So did Kyle. And, of course, the four aliens. But Maria and Alex? His father? He couldn't let them come with him, couldn't let them walk into danger and…

"How do you think you're going to stop them?" Liz questioned, apparently accurately interpreting Max's expression.

He didn't answer, didn't really have an answer to give. He knew they were running out of time, the dark circles under Isabel's eyes and the sallow white of her skin were enough indication of that. In fact, he was more than a little surprised that she had even made it this long, and he _knew_ she couldn't last much longer…

"We changed things, you know," Liz said thoughtfully. "Maria didn't die. Your mother and my parents…" she stopped, the words sounding strained, before continuing, "we couldn't change everything, but we did change some things and I… I guess I'm just optimistic that this could be one of them. Isabel. Khivar. Us… it could end differently this time."

"And if it doesn't?" Max challenged.

Liz shrugged. "Serena might have had the idea, but she's not the only one who knows things about science. I bet we could find someone who could help us. Maybe Kal has a contact that knows something about time travel and…"

But Max had stopped listening. It wasn't that he didn't want to believe her, didn't want to believe that Serena's death would have such an irreversible impact on him, it was just…

He wasn't sure he wanted to do this all over again. Knowing about the future had made some things easier, but it had made others harder, and if all their knowledge didn't help them get it right this time, then what was the _point_? What could they possibly learn that would help them?

"I think about him, sometimes," Liz admitted slowly, her gaze turning from him and back towards the door. "The uh… the future version of you. I think about him and… well, all of the futures."

"I think about that all of the time," Max replied with a slight laugh. "Trust me, we all do."

"No," Liz answered with a firm shake of her head, "you think about it in terms of what you can learn from the future, what you know should be avoided and what we can succeed at. I think about it differently. I think about… about _him_. You."

"What do you think about when you're thinking about him?" Max questioned, because even if it was a future version of himself, he still thought of him as a separate person.

"In the future he came from, we were all so… happy. I mean, until Maria died. It all fell apart after that, and maybe everything we will be different now because she didn't die, but I can't help but think…" She paused, reached up and touched her fingers lightly to the side of his face. "That future was very similar to this one. It started out so well, almost perfectly, and then… things fell apart. But you aren't like him. Not as much as I would have expected."

"Does that disappoint you?" Max asked before he could stop himself.

Liz looked almost horrified by the question. "Of course not," she assured him, and the look faded away until she was smiling slightly in bemusement. "I just meant that you seem stronger than he did."

"He'd lost everything," Max answered. "I mean, I've lost my mom, but he… he lost _everything_." All his friends, all his family. Max honestly couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose Liz. And he had no doubt that if he was the one travelling to the past, it would have been just as hard to face them all so soon after losing them, with the pain of their deaths still so raw.

"I know, but I just… you are stronger, Max. I don't know how. Maybe… maybe it is because things didn't start out perfect for us." She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and let her fold into him. "In his timeline, everything sounded so… amazing. There was no heartache. Isabel fell for Alex right away, they didn't need to fight for it, and Khivar didn't come for her. Tess backed off and went to Kyle, there were no issues there. You and me… we didn't have the same kind of problems that we did at the beginning, after Nicolas." Max flinched, and Liz whispered, "And you didn't know what it was like to kill a person in cold blood."

"I wish I still didn't know what it was like," Max growled.

Liz continued, "We were happy. I could tell that. Maybe it wasn't so perfect, maybe it wasn't heaven, but it was incredibly close. We went to the colleges we wanted and did all the things we wanted and… and we might have fought the skins every now and then, but it wasn't… it wasn't the constant threat that we feel now. And I can't help but wonder if the reason we were beaten so quickly by Khivar was because we had gotten so used to this new life, and we didn't know how to handle danger. We didn't know how to fight back, and… and maybe that's why you were falling apart, too. Because you didn't know how to do this."

"I still don't know how to do this," Max answered emphatically.

Liz shrugged. "Maybe not. But you _are_ stronger. I know that. I can see it." She tilted her head back and kissed him softly. "And we can win this."

* * *

"You can't come with us! Isabel, think about this. It's too dangerous for you. Khivar will…"

"Khivar is going to try to kill me one way or another," Isabel said, hands on her hips as she glared at Max. "Or have you not noticed that he's been tormenting me for _months_?"

"Isabel, Maxwell is right," Michael said from where he stood, leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. "You really shouldn't come. You, Maria, and Alex…"

"Hey! When did we suddenly decide that I wasn't coming?" Maria demanded hotly.

Michael spun to face her, an incredulous look on his face. "You don't have powers, Maria. This is too dangerous. They'll kill you in a heartbeat. Besides, we don't know that this isn't how it happens."

"How what happens?" Maria challenged.

"Your _death_!" A complete silence met those words, then Michael practically exploded, "Just because you didn't die in New York doesn't mean it won't happen this time. It isn't over, and if Liz is there and she's in danger and you try to save her…"

"I'm not going to die," Maria said.

At the same time, Liz said worriedly, "Maybe he's got a point, Maria…"

Max groaned and tried his best to tune out the arguing. Maria and Liz were now snapping at each other, each clearly frustrated with the other's point of view. Beyond them, Isabel was still glaring at Michael, and Alex was hovering around her, looking unsure. Max had a feeling that the human probably agreed with Michael, probably thought this was far too dangerous and Isabel should stay out of it.

Isabel wasn't the only one Max was concerned about, though.

He turned his gaze to the opposite side of the room. His father was standing there, along with Jim and Amy and Alex's parents. And they had all made it clear that they wanted to be part of this as well.

"Look," Michael said, his voice pulling Max from his tired thoughts, "it should just be Max, Tess, Liz, Kyle, and I. Langley will come, too, and Courtney will probably join us there. I know they both said they had a few contacts they wanted to bring… people just as interested in ending this as we are."

"We're all interested in ending this," Isabel spat.

"She's right, you know," Jim said, speaking up almost defiantly. There was a challenge in his eyes as he looked hard at Max and continued, "Amy can stay behind to watch Abby while we do this. But…"

"But what?" Max interrupted. "This is an alien problem. You can't just…"

"You're outnumbered. You _need_ help."

"No. Okay, just… just _no_!" Max hissed. "I am _not_ going to let you all walk into what will undoubtedly be your deaths. I know that I can't do this by myself, and that I need help. But I _don't_ need to lose all of you, okay? I'm going to stop Khivar, I'm going to kill him. I promise you that. But it won't mean much of anything if you're all dead. Because we all know that this doesn't end with Khivar, that there is going to be an _after_ that we have to worry about, and I don't want to be burying everyone, too."

"Haven't we learned anything, Max?" Isabel murmured wearily. "We only succeed when we're together. When we're working as a team. After everything that has happened… don't you see that?"

"We stopped Nicolas without dragging everyone into that fight," Max countered stubbornly. "And Michael and I took on Courtney after she mind-warped me without the whole group."

"But we all planned stopping the Harvest together and we all discussed your mind-warp before you took on Courtney. And saving me from Khivar during our senior year? Saving Maria from the skins and Lonnie and Rath? Fleeing the FBI? Fighting the skins in the diner? Those are all things we did as a group."

"Diner doesn't count. We'd all be dead if Courtney hadn't intervened," Max muttered under his breath, well aware of just how petulant he sounded.

"I agree with Isabel," Tess said, and all eyes spun towards her. Max could see the same incredulity he was feeling reflected in the faces of everyone around him, but Tess didn't flinch and she didn't back down. "This isn't your fight, Max. It's _our_ fight. All of ours, including Isabel. We're in this together."

There was a silence, tense and uneasy, and then Maria groaned and sank into the cushions of the sofa, running a hand through her short blonde hair. "She's right," the pixie blonde grumbled. "I hate to say this, I hate to admit that Tess is right about anything, but she is right about this." She looked up, first at Michael and Liz, and then at Max. "I know what you're worried about. I know everyone expects me to die. And maybe I will. Maybe we all will. But I'm not letting you go without me."

"We go together," Liz whispered in a resigned tone, "or we don't go at all."

* * *

_Liz POV..._

_"Max! Come on, we're going to be late. How can you want to be late to your own wedding?"_

_"I don't _want _to be late, Isabel. But given that the wedding doesn't start for _three hours_ and the church is _ten minutes_ from here, I think I'll be okay."_

_"Liz, tell him he needs to get there early."_

_"Izzy, I can't tell him anything, it is bad luck for me to see him before the wedding. Why do you think I'm hiding in the bathroom?"_

_"Because you're crazy, chica?"_

_"No one asked you, Maria."_

_"Okay, _what _is going on here? Max, _why _aren't you ready yet? Where is Liz? Come on, people, let's go. We've got things to do, brides and grooms to get hitched. Liz? Come on, let's go."_

_"I can't go, Kyle. Not until Max leaves the room. I can't let him see me."_

_"You actually believe in all that stuff, Parker?"_

_"Of course I believe in it, Michael. We already had to postpone this wedding to go to war, don't you think that we shouldn't take any chances this time around? I don't want anything to get in the way."  
_

_"Michael? What are you doing here? I thought you were already at the church? You're the best man, you need to..."_

_"Calm down, Izzy. You're more worked up about this than Parker is, and it is her wedding day. Of course, you're clearly not as crazy as here, given that she's hiding in the bathroom and you're not."_

_"You know, sometimes dealing with all of you makes me think of dealing with Abby. Only she's better behaved."_

_"Shut up, Tess."_

_"Why does this wedding seem more complicated than our entire battle strategy against Khivar?"_

_"Because it is. Remind me to elope. And not invite any of you."_

_"You'd have to actually propose first, Guerin, before you could elope. And that would require you to actually make a commitment."_

_"Shut up, Whitman."_

_"To the church, people! Now!"_

_"We're going, Isabel. We're going. Breathe. Take nice, deep, relaxing breaths."_

_"My brother is getting married to his soul mate. I refuse to relax!"_

_"Okay, I'm taking charge."_

_"Who gave you the right to take charge, Alex?"_

_"Well, no one else is, so in order to maintain our sanity, everyone be quiet and listen to me. Max, go into the bedroom and finish getting ready. Once he is in there, Maria, you can take Liz to the church. Kyle, Tess, is Abby ready to be the flower girl? Yes? Okay, good. So you guy's go ahead to the chuch with Liz and Maria. Isabel, sweetie, you need to calm down, okay? Everything is going to be just fine. Right... everybody know what they're supposed to be doing? Great. Let's go, people."_

_"Thanks, Alex."_

_"No problem, Liz. And don't worry, everything is going to be just fine. I promise."_

_"I know it will. I can't explain it, I just... I know it will work out in the end."_

"Liz? Are you okay? You totally zoned out for a minute there."

Liz blinked and looked around the room. It was empty, accept for Maria who sat at the table opposite her, flipping through a magazine and clearly trying to pretend that she wasn't that worried about the fact that they would be facing Khivar soon.

Liz frowned, rubbing her eyes. It was the strangest, longest vision she had had, but it was clearly a vision. One full of chaos and bickering and insanity... and hope. She had no idea how far into the future she had seen, but she felt like it was probably only a few months. In a few months, they would be safe and happy... and alive.

She had, once upon a time, not expected that. After the visit from Future Max, she had been less than convinced of their ability to change things. No matter what she had said to anyone else, the doubt had always been there. They'd tried and failed so many times... But this time, it seemed, they had finally learned something.

They had learned to protect themselves, to stand up and fight back.

They had learned that this was a war, and wars were not easy, were not simple or straightforward, and that sometimes, to do the right thing, they had to do some wrong things first.

They had learned to move on, even after being knocked down. They had learned to pull themselves up off the ground, dust themselves off, and keep going.

They had learned to let go of the past and focus instead on the future.

They had learned to never give up.

And, most importantly, they had learned to stick together, no matter what.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she looked back at Maria.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Perfect, in fact." Maria gave her a dumbfounded look, but Liz just continued to smile. "It's going to be okay," she promised, feeling something warm and hopeful filling her chest. "In the end, it's all going to be okay."

* * *

Khivar knew they would be coming eventually, but he couldn't know they'd be coming now. Which meant they had only the rough outline of a plan, hopefully something resembling the element of surprise, and each other. By anyone's standards, it shouldn't have been enough.

And yet, somehow, as Max stared at the compound before him, the building that he knew housed his enemy, he couldn't help but feel optimistic.

Liz came to his side. She would always be there, he knew, even though he wasn't happy about it. He wanted to protect her, but had long since given up the idea that she would go along willingly with it. She wanted to stand beside him in this fight, and as much as it terrified him, he did love her for it.

Somehow, it also felt… logical. His life on Earth hadn't really started until Liz. Before that, he'd been living, breathing, going through the motions of survival. But it was Liz who made things _right_ for him. And now that she was standing by his side, he knew that, no matter how this ended, it would end the same way it started.

With Liz.

He reached out and took her hand, linking his fingers through hers.

_We go together, or we don't go at all._


End file.
